Just a Bandit
by I.Think.Of.Her
Summary: After clearing out a bandit-riddled cave, the Dovahkiin is left with a rather fiesty and unpleasant prisoner. She can't find it in her heart to kill the girl, but that is the oposite of how the young bandit feels. Will love bloom between the two, or will the dragonborn's fate be sealed?
1. I Lose it All

**AN: So this is my first Skyrim Fic to be posted here, but not my first story by any means. I'm not actually expecting anyone to read this but I got hit with the idea the other day while clearing out Swindler's Den. This is an eventual Yuri with Female Dragon born and OC. Don't like? Don't read.**

**Reviews, follows, favorites and PM's are welcome and encouraged. If you're following any of my other stories, don't worry. I will be continuing them.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim.**

I looked down at my comrades laughing and joking around the table. Sure we were bandits, but we were a family none the less. Gelthar was going on about how all there was to drink in Skyrim was mead. Coming from an Orc, the notion of not having beer was a foreign concept. I wasn't much one for anything besides water on most days, but the promise of a warm belly full of mead was enough to make any Nord smile on a cold day.

Klinker, our only Khajiit, laughed saying that Gelthar didn't need alcohol to blunder around like an idiot.

I leaned back against the crates letting the warm feeling of companionship wash over me. A long day on the hunt, alone because I was the lightest on my feet, really took a lot out of me. All I really wanted to do was fall into my snow-saber pelt and sleep.

Karla, the other woman in our group slumped down beside me. "Long day, huh Kiriki?" I smiled and nodded, leaning into the Dunmer's shoulder.

"Well you know how it is. Those idiots would starve if I wasn't here." Karla laughed seeing the truth in my statement. She was like a mother to me.

I had been brought into the jolly band when it was just her and Klinker. The two had a bond that I was sure I would never find. Their gentleness towards each other really rounded out our group. I often wondered how the two met, furthermore how they fell in love, but I never brought it up.

About five years ago I was living in a small camp just east of Riverwood. It was a serene little village with only about fifteen of us. Three long bunkhouses nestled into a hillside was all I had to call home. It was peaceful and we kept to ourselves, staying out of the brewing political tensions.

It was a normal winter's day when the panic broke out. It was rumored that a large, powerful group of bandits were making their way down from Whiterun. Many of my neighbors and kinsmen fled until it was just me, my adoptive mother and father. Just after nightfall, they struck. In a flurry of arrows and swift sword strikes, my parents lay dead at my feet and I was left to run.

I barely escaped with my life at the age of six and I was left out in the wilds of Skyrim with nothing but a small huntsman's bow and a quiver of arrows to call my own. It was a harsh, cold winter that year. I wandered about trying to find my way, but only succeeded in losing myself further into the snows. My resentment and resolve grew as the hunger set in. I was cold and alone, left with what would appear a death sentence. But I survived for two years on my own.

I was Eight when I killed my first saber cat. It was a snowy day, much like the one on which I lost everything. The beast crept up on me as I slept, bright eyes reflecting what little light there was from the moon. I was fortunate that the animal stepped onto a particularly deep patch of snow. It floundered helplessly for a moment attempting to regain its footing when I snapped awake. My hands found my bow with practiced ease and in one fluid movement I set my sights and fired. The black feathered arrow buried itself deep in the cat's eye-socket and the beast lay still. It was that one shot, that chance moment, that kept me alive. Its fur served as my coat and blanket, its meat as my food and its bones as my arrows.

Not long after, I began hunting the bandits that killed my parents. In another set of chance circumstances involving a jester and his broken wagon wheel, I found my way to Whiterun and then to a cave near Helgen. After a fierce battle and a few dead by my hand, I came to join the relentless band of mercenaries and the rest, as they say, is history. Quite the enchanting and far-fetched tale, some would say, but it was true.

"You should get some sleep, little one." Called Gelthar's booming voice from down below. "I'll take the first watch. Talos knows you'll fall asleep end end up with an arrow in your neck." I smirked at his quick cover of his sentimentality.

The Orc hand joined us after a raid on his father's stronghold. When he was the only one left standing, we gave him a choice. He could join us, or die. He decided on the smart option.

I didn't grace him with a response, but instead pulled my furs with me to a small alcove in the rock and curled up under the warmth of a pelt. I was out within a few moments. I dreamt of warm fires and dancing warriors, feasts within the gates of Sovengarde. My parents were with me.

I woke with a start as clangs and cries reached my ears. My senses were clouded by sleep and my vision blurry. I tried to pull my focus, to figure out what had happened, but I was still in a state of dreams. I kicked at the blankets tangled about my feet and groped in near-blindness for my bow, but it was not within reach. I felt helpless in the clamor around me and vulnerable with no weapon. I swiped at my eyes, and as my vision came into focus I witnessed horror.

A warrior cloaked in a strange fur armor hoisted a mighty battle axe and brought it to bear down on Karla. The Dunmer's head rolled and a screech tore from my throat, an inhuman sound of agony. I threw myself at the attacker, bringing her to the floor. Her Ancient Nordic helm tumbled from her head. I dug my nails into her face, dragging rivets of blood while she tried to throw me off. I landed a hook on her left side, but she pulled out of harm's way. The last thing I saw was the hilt of her Battle axe arcing towards me and all went black.


	2. Captive!

**AN: Hello there. I'm here for another chapterrrr! So this is not just going to be a love story, I really want to develop the characters while adding in some actual plot/ quests with my own little twist. I have semi-large plans for this story, so I hope you're in it for the long run and not just a quick fluffball. **

**On to the disclaimer!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim or its characters. If I did, Sapphire would be an option for a wife and she would tell you her dang name! - just one of my many wishes. **

I groaned and lifted my head a bit trying to get a handle on my surroundings. It was then that my memories came back to me in a flood.

I tried to throw myself into a standing position, but there was a clink and then a hard pull at my wrists sending me back to the ground. I flopped around uselessly for a bit before realizing that my hands and feet were bound in leather straps which were attached to chain which, in turn, was attached to a tree.

The open gray sky did nothing to ease my pain, but the dirt flung into my eyes made me cease my flailing. I closed my eyes, feeling them well up with unbidden tears.

"Stop." That single word sent an icy flare of hatred through my bones. I glared up at the warrior through blurry eyes. I gathered as much saliva as I could and spat at her. It hit her armor and clung for a moment before dripping down into the fur.

Closer now, I realized that the furs and steel she wore resembled the likeness of a wolf head. Angry red marks trailed her face like tears and I felt smug that I had scarred her once perfect complexion.

"Charming one, isn't she my Thane?" I realized the other woman for the first time when she spoke. Clad in steel armor but bearing no helmet was a midnight haired Nord with sharp features. "Now why did you not kill her again?" I narrowed my stinging eyes at the woman.

The warrior said nothing, but simply handed me a loaf of bread before moving to sit by the fire. I tugged at my chains for a while, causing a racket that was visibly grating on the black haired one's nerves before giving up.

I entertained the idea of chewing on the tough leather in a attempt to get free, but it was obvious that it was well tanned. "Let me go!" I growled thinking of Gelthar and Klinker. There was no doubt that they were dead along with the rest of the faction.

"No." I ground my teeth at the response. It was simple as if I didn't even deserve an actual answer. I made it a point in my mind that at the first chance I was going to slit the woman's throat. Her brown hair ruffled in the biting wind.

I shivered realizing for the first time how cold it truly was. I resigned myself to tearing bits of bread with my teeth. I was starving. "Here."

I hadn't even noticed the warrior's movement, a testament to how drained I was. She dangled my Saber pelt before me which I snatched angrily. I curled into the soft fur, finding a small comfort in its familiarity.

I watched silently as the two women interacted in such a way that alluded to the idea that they had been together for a while, but they lacked any informality. "What will we be doing, my Thane?"

The warrior glanced up from her food for a moment, contemplating an answer. "We go to Riften. She comes." Deciding that the conversation was over, the brunette settled into silence once again.

I kept my ears trained for further discussion, but there was none. The sun fell slowly below the mountains leaving us in darkness. I realized that they must have carried me because Swindler's Den was nowhere in sight.

The one who referred to the warrior as Thane leaned up against a log and fell asleep with soft snores, but the other woman remained alert. She showed no signs of tiring and kept watch over the camp. I felt her eyes on me when she thought I was asleep. My face contorted in anger.

She was treating me like a pet. She slaughtered my family for no reason. What had we done to her? We hadn't been on a raid in nearly four months time. The attack was unprovoked. A silent tear tracked down my face for each of my lost comrades.

They were in a better place now. I pictured Klinker stalking the sands of Elyswer, Karla in her rightful place by Azura's side and Gelthar with his Orcish brethren.

My muscle protested the discomfort of being bound for so long, but there was nothing I could really do about it. I rolled over and crossed my arms over my chest as best I could, but sleep would not come.

Every sound made me flinch, every shift in the wind brought with it memories of a now impossible time. I laughed bitterly thinking that while I had lost one family; my adoptive parents had been avenged. All the bandits linked to their death were now rotting corpses in a lone cave.

"You should rest." The voice broke through my wall of thoughts and I shifted to look at the speaker. Her dark eyes glinted in the dim light of the Skyrim tundra. Her gaze held an intensity that I had never seen before. Her eyes burned, but there was an unmistakable cold to them. They were the eyes of a killer. They were just like mine.


	3. No Answers

**AN: Heyo! I'm here with another chapter of this super awesome (Just kidding, just kidding!) story. I know ya missed me! Anyway, on to the story. By the way, I do not have the DLC so I'm going strictly off the original parts of Skyrim. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own Skyrim.**

She was a hunter, but instead of animals she hunted people. She was cold and calculating, never over exerting herself and always sure. With repeated skill she would pull back an arrow and let it fly.

She never missed and no one survived unless she wanted them to. There was something dark about her, machine-like. It was as if she was settling her score with the world one kill at a time.

More often than not it was as if she had no motives. She was just uprooting anyone she felt didn't belong just like she had done to me. But I had also discovered another interesting fact about her. Everything she did had a purpose, so what was the purpose of letting me live?

I had been with the two women for about two weeks now. Two weeks of long, hard travel and fierce battles. More than twice we had been ambushed by a group of elves who the Thane said were the Thalmor, not that that meant anything to me.

Another new development was the fact that I now knew their names. The black haired Nord was Lydia and the Imperial warrior was Främling, stranger.

"My Thane." I was brought out of my revery by Lydia calling for Främling's attention. "Due to the addition to our party, it has come to my attention that we are running low on provisions." The woman nodded, replacing her helm on her head.

"Very well. I will be back in a days time. If I am not you are to continue the journey to Riften. I will meet you there." My eyes widened a bit. That was the longest sentence I had heard from her since my capture. She pushed herself to her feet gracefully and started off with no further warning.

She was gone in moments and I turned to Lydia, turning my wrists in the bindings to try and get some circulation back. "Is she always like that?"

The Nord looked at me and I was almost sure she was going to ignore my question. "Ever since I've known her. She gives no explanation and does not take no for an answer."

She set to work on the food again and I slumped back wishing for more information. "Why didn't she kill me?"

This time there was silence. It seemed I was never going to get an answer to that particular question.

I spent the rest of the cold day rotating my hands in an attempt to loosen my bonds. I only served to rub my skin raw and make myself generally uncomfortable.

What I wouldn't have given to be able to shoot a few arrows, even if they didn't end up imbedded in my captor's throat. I could feel my archery skill slowly slipping from mu grasp. My lack of movement was making me restless. I settled for pushups and different sets to try and keep my body in some semblance of shape.

That night I fell into a fitful sleep plagued by headless Dunmer and blazing houses. The screams and cries of children created a catastrophic symphony in my head.

XxxxxXxxxxXxxxxX

Främling breathed in the crisp night air, her pupils dilated to take in all the light available. The frosted grass crackled softly under her feet and she made a conscious effort to step lighter.

She had been following a small herd of elk for most of the day. They had never been close enough for her to get a perfect shot and she had been trying to get down-wind of them since the sun set.

Finally the were within range. She lifted her bow and drew back, feeling her fingers brush her cheek. She took a deep breath and was about to release when a shrill cry cut through the silence.

The elk dashed off and the imperial grunted in frustration, but went to investigate. She crept low to the ground, timing her movements with the wind and staying close to cover at all time. Her bow never left its drawn position.

In the perpetual dark, she could make out a group of figures surrounding a wagon. The horses legs were cut from under it and the animal whinnied in pain. The Thane's jaw clenched and her grip tightened on the bowstring.

She surveyed the highwaymen's numbers. She counted ten and cursed. She couldn't safely take them out without risking the merchant's life.

It was then that she got a good look of the victim. Her heart thundered in her chest. "Ysolda."


	4. She's a Mage

**AN: Yes, I am here with another chapter. I am really enjoying writing this considering it gives me another reason to play my favorite game more as well as a new perspective with which to watch the events. And now when characters in the game piss me off I have the power to kill them in my story which is a wonderful feeling. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim. If I did then Maul would be dead laughing at me. And Maven would no longer have the ability to sass me.**

"Lydia. Come, bring the runt." Came the imperial's bark. I was heaved to my feet by the strong woman. We started off at a quick pace that had me wondering what the hurry was.

I had hardly woken when the warrior returned, as frantic as I assumed she could ever be. Her cool mask was broken by lines of worry etched into her brow.

Before long we were running, I was dragging behind due to the shackles. When the tether tugged at Lydia for the fifth time, she turned to me sword in hand.

I though for a moment that she was going to kill me, but her swing was low and cut through the leather bindings at my feet. She continued on and I was able to keep up relatively well.

We rounded another hill and that's when I saw the fort. It was a building of heavy black stone, a blemish on the natural beauty of the landscape. It stretched into the clouds like the black hand of Sithis himself.

"They took Ysolda." For the first time I saw an actual emotion on the Warrior's face. Rage. This Ysolda person must have been important.

The recognition on Lydia's face confirmed it. "Let us not wait any longer." Främling turned to Lydia and held her hand.

"Wait here." The Nord frowned but complied. I watched confused as she slipped off into the tall grass and disappeared from sight.

"Why would she not take you with her?" I glanced at the woman as I made myself comfortable on the ground.

"I am not as stealthy as her. I would only serve to slow her down."

"You would let her face the enemy alone? In a hideout such as that there are sure to be more than twenty occupants. It is suicide."

The black haired woman laughed softly. "You underestimate my Thane. They are no match for her. Once she is in the shadows there is no hope for escape." She said it with such conviction that it amazed me.

"So," I began humorlessly, "that is how she slaughtered my kin." I felt the anger and pain bubbling up in my chest.

"Yes." Was her only response. She said nothing more and I could only assume that I had offended her in some way. Good.

It was long about a sun-length later that there was a sign of movement within the fortress. Lydia tensed and got to her feet, ready to go if she was needed.

"FUS RO-DAH!" The ground shook beneath our feet and I scramble up quickly, my gaze flicking around quickly trying to find the source of the power. Lydia only smiled.

Shouts of pain carried on the wind to us and within a few moments it was silent again. I saw a figure approaching and dropped into a fighting stance, holding my bound fists as one might prepare a mace.

Once they got closer, I noticed it was Främling. She had another woman with her. She had red hair and was clothed in a simple sky-blue dress. The other woman had her arm draped over the Thanes shoulder using her for support.

The woman was limping badly, a pained grimace plastered on her face. Främling helped her to the ground and crouched feeling her leg gently. The woman, who I assumed was Ysolda, cried out loudly before clenching her teeth. She was strong for a merchant, I'd give her that much. She wasn't in hysterics crying which most men would be at this point.

Främling hiked up the dress to reveal a terribly bloodied leg. It seemed to have shattered somehow and I could only imagine the pain. The imperial held her hands over the wound and closed her eyes.

An orange golden light gathered around her fingers and the injury began to heal. The light sparkled and glowed in an unnatural way. She was a mage too?

Within moments Ysolda was able to walk on her own. I harrumphed and looked away glaring.

Later that evening Ysolda departed from us on the road to Whiterun. I was surprised that she wanted to travel on her own. She took one of the horses that used to belong to the bandits and rode off.

"We continue on." Was all that was said once we replenished our supplies from the store rooms of the fort.


	5. The Rift

**AN: Hey there! So I have to say that this is, by far, my favorite chapter yet. Review and follow! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own skyrim**

The Rift was one of those places you really just had to see to believe. It was hundreds of acres of beautiful forest and glistening lake. The sun shone brightly overhead.

The stone path weaved its way through the tall spires of rock that Skyrim was know for and brought us up the the front gates of Riften. So there we were, our planned destination.

"Oh thank the divines! I thought we would never get here." It had been a good month of travel since we left Ysolda. It was a long, perilous journey full of caves and ancient crypts. I had seen more of the living dead than anyone in their right minds would have enjoyed.

The Riften wall was an impressive sight to behold indeed. Perhaps not as much so as that of Whiterun, but it had a certain comfortable elegance to it. The two guards posted at the gate approached us.

"Hold there! Before I let you in to Riften, you need to pay the visitor's tax." I glanced at Främling confused. I had never heard of such an absurdity before. The Thane looked unconvinced and it made me wonder if she had been here before.

I brushed past them and folded my arms over my chest as best I could with my bound hands. "What's the tax for?" He looked at my bindings. I was sure he had a puzzled look under that helmet.

"For the privilege of entering the city. What does it matter?" I shifted on my feet and raised a brow. He was getting uncomfortable now.

I sighed and grabbed my coin purse, slipping out the gold and handing it to him. I knew desperation when I saw it and I wasn't going to be the death of some innocent, or perhaps not-so-innocent, guy.

"This is obviously a shake down, but I'll pay." He seemed surprised.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Let me open the gate and I'll let you into the city." I nodded and passed through feeling Lydia and Främling's eyes on me. The Thane gripped my shoulder and spun me around.

She searched my eyes for something and I could feel her question. "All us outcasts have to stick together so rich hussies like yourself don't take advantage of us." I shrugged her off and gestured for her to lead the way.

"I had another run in with the thieves guild..." My ears perked up at the voice.

"Be careful Mjoil. The Thieves Guild has Maven Black Briar at her back." A concerned man was speaking with a tall, armored Nord to my left. The thieves guild, huh? Sounded like my kind of gig.

We were continuing on when a large man stopped us. He was leaning up against a support beam of one of the houses. "I don't know you. You in Riften looking for trouble?" I let Främling take the reins on this one.

"What's it to you?" She looked ready to start walking again.

"Don't say something you might regret." His smug voice was obviously grating on the Thane's nerves. She looked ready to plug an arrow through his brain, or possibly reduce him to ash as I knew she could in a second.

"Last thing the Black Briars need is some loudmouth tryin' to meddle in their affairs." I could feel her thinking that perhaps he was the loud mouth, but she remained cool on the outside. Through our travels I had gained the ability to read the imperial quite well.

"Who are the Black Briars?" She feigned interest.

He scoffed. "The Black Briars have Riften in their pocket and the Thieves Guild watching their backs." He tried to sound threatening, but I was tempted to laugh.

"So I hear." I muttered under my breath, but he continued on unabashed.

"So keep your nose out of their business. Me? I'm Maul. I watch the streets for 'em. If you need dirt on anything, I'm your guy... But it'll cost ya." Främling glared at him angrily at the idea that she would actually pay for information. I actually felt sorry for the guy. He was walking a thin line and hell waited on both sides.

"How about you tell me for free?" I could hear the undertones in her voice, but he was oblivious.

"Hahaha! Don't make me laugh! Just stay outa the Black Briars way. You'll live longer." That was the last straw.

Before anyone knew what was happening, the warrior slammed her knee into his ribs and held him against the post by his hair. To anyone passing by, it wouldn't look like anything out of the ordinary. Just two people leaning having a conversation, but the fear in his eyes spoke volumes.

"And you stay out of mine... You'll live longer." The sickly sweet in her voice was dripping with malice and I fought back a shiver. If I were in his position I might have wet myself. He nodded and scampered off when she let him go.

"Milk drinker." -he's lucky he didn't really insult me- her eyes said.

Our first stop was the bee and barb inn. After our long trek, a bed would be just what we needed. I longed to fall into a soft mattress and furs. Sleeping on the ground was nice, but sleeping in a bed? It's better.


	6. It Isn't Envy

**AN: Yay! I finally drudged through all the opening crap and now I can get down to the drama! So now I will be getting into some of the actual quest stuff. In case you didn't notice, I'm using a lot of the actual game dialog. Yes, that means I am playing the quests as I write this. If it gets too tedious to write down the actual dialog, I will be paraphrasing so I warn you now. I always feel it makes it better not to alter the stuff, but really… it is freaking hard! Anywho, on with the story. Get your dragonborn while you can because she will be exiting stage left soon enough for a bit to focus on getting the other characters where they need to be, but fear not! When she comes back she will be a bit more… deadly… heh… hehehehe! **

**Thanks to my followers/favoriters/reviewers! You guys make me smile. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim or its characters, or its setting, or any of its plot… and on it goes.**

I lounged on a bar stool nursing a mug of hot cider while the occupants of the inn gathered around the hearth. Främling was regaling them with the glorious story of her first run-in with the Dovah. She moved her arms animatedly, enrapturing her audience. I groaned and returned to my drink.

"I think you're in need of something a little stronger my friend." The smooth voice settled on my ears and I only hummed in response. The Argonian called Talen-Jei chuckled warmly.

"She is quite the story-teller. Here, Black-Briar mead on the house, friend." I smiled at him and pushed away my mug in exchange for the bottle. It burned the entire way down and I nodded my approval.

I gestured to the Imperial warrior. "She's no hero and yet they treat her like a Divine." A chorus of shouts raised up from the group around the flames.

"Yet you travel with her?" The green-scaled man dropped onto the stool beside me with a questioning glance.

I held up my still-bound hands. "I haven't much choice. I am a prisoner." I could see the cogs turning in his head.

"Are you a conquered foe awaiting trial?" He didn't seem too worried that this was the case.

I shook my head, doing away with any of his suspicions. "No, but the woman won't let me go." He laid a hand on my shoulder.

"Yet you don't seem too keen on leaving her side." There was a question there. He didn't even have to ask.

"I'll admit that she has grown on me, but that will not stop me from slaying her the moment I am free." He nodded and left to sweep the floors.

In the background clamor, I could hear a man shouting at Talen to bring him more mead. I turned my attention back to the hearth only to find the imperial missing. I was about to turn when I heard a chair screech back.

"Imperial Bastard!" My head whirled to see a group crowded around Främiling and an old man. He had his hands clapped around the woman's throat, nearly lifting her off the ground.

"Talen! Grab him!" Keerava, the other Argonian owner shouted. In a bustle of movement, the seething Nord was pulled from her.

Främling only grunted before heading up the stairs near the front door. No one but me had noticed the half drawn sword at her hip, the Steel blade gleaming in the candle light.

The man who had attacked the Thane, Vulwulf Snow-Shod, was thrown out with some harsh words about cleaning up his act before coming back. I trudged up the stares, fully exhausted from the long travel as well as the events of the day.

I reached the upper floor of the inn and smiled at the warm atmosphere. Pelt rugs covered the floor in a soft blanket of fur and the open floor plan was quite cozy. I crossed the room and entered the small sleeping cubicle across the way.

A wreath of wild strawberries hung above the bed and near the door there was a chest for storing equipment. I currently had no possessions besides my fur pelt and light fur armor so the chest was of no use to me.

I shut and locked the door before falling into bed. I didn't want any of the bar's drunken patrons trying anything. Over the time of my captivity, I had grown accustomed to sleeping on my back to avoid my bound hands.

My eyes fluttered closed and before long I was fast asleep. I awoke the next morning to piercing blue eyes watching me. I sat up with a start, shuffling back on the bed.

Främling was perched in the chair next to my bed. "Bout time you woke up, Runt." I glared at her harshly.

"It's Kiriki!" I fumed. Her eyes opened in surprise. After all the time I had spent traveling with her, I had, up until this point, not revealed my name. I would have preferred it stay that way, but getting called Runt was entirely too demeaning.

She nodded and stood to leave before turning back to me. "Now the real work begins. We must ask around for a man named Esbern. We begin here." I was offended that she actually expected me, her prisoner, to help her on this heinous quest.

I nodded anyway, a small part of me curious as to what the warrior wanted with this "Esbern" fellow. We strode down stairs with me heading over to the bar.

"Kreeva? Could I get a sweet roll, rabbit haunch and possibly a good 'ol Nord mead to wash it down?" The Argonian smiled at me, heading off into the store room to prepare my food.

After a little while, she came back with my food, placing it in front of me. "What else can I do for you?" I bit into the fatty meat and moaned my approval.

I swallowed, savoring the taste. "What's the word around town?" She laughed.

"The thieved guild is having a hard time gaining a foothold in Riften. Rumor has it they're falling apart from the inside." I sighed at the groups unfortunate luck. So that's what the deal was with the shakedown at the gates.

I took a swig of my mead, enjoying the slight heat that it radiated in my stomach. "Ever heard of a guy called Esbern?" I asked cautiously.

She furrowed her brow, looking at me quizically. "I don't know him. If he's in some kind of trouble, you can bet he'll be down in the rat-way."

I finished off my food, awkwardly resting my hands on the counter. Kreeva looked like she wanted to take a kitchen knife to the leather around my wrists, but I shook my head. "Don't worry about me." She glanced at me with sad black eyes.

I didn't know much about my traveling captors yet, but I wouldn't put it past them to do something to the inn keeper if I escaped. I slipped away to find Lydia to tell her what I'd discovered.

I was heading out the door when a voice stopped me. "You didn't honestly think we left our prisoner alone, did you?" I groaned.

"I'm well aware of that thank you. You should know that I gave up on escaping after the first time." I remembered vividly the feeling of the Nord's steel boot slamming me back into the ground after tripping me.

"Anyway, I was actually coming to find you. Kreeva said that if we're looking for this... Esbern, we should check out the ratway. Any ideas what that is?" The raven haired women thought for a moment before starting off.

I had to jog to keep up with her long strides. "The ratway is the sewersystem that runs through the lower level of Riften. It's a network of tunnels and pitfalls that serve as an almost underground city. I don't know why we didn't think of that before."

I followed close behind the woman and noticed, once again, how much larger she was compared to me. The top of my head just barely reached her shoulder. I frowned.

We slipped between citizens of all race, crossing one of the wooden bridges leading from the front of the inn. Lydia led me the door of a building before stepping inside.

A fire burned brightly in the hearth and the two women running the place seemed friendly enough, but the way the blonde was looking at me have me the creeps. Lydia spoke first. "Did an Imperial come through here?"

The blonde nodded and pointed upstairs. Lydia nodded her thanks and went off to find Främling. "Nice place." I offered. The redhead stopped sweeping and looked at me kindly.

"Yeah well, it isn't the Blue Palace, but we do alright." I chuckled and smiled. She certainly had some humor.

"Are you sure? I could have sworn I saw the Jarl just moments ago." I winked and paced over to a little table on the far wall, admiring the golden statue.

"That's Lady Dibella. Helga is a bit of a devout." I glanced behind me.

"I take it you're not." She shook her head. She was about to elaborate when heavy footfalls came from the stairs.

"Come. We are heading out." Those strong blue eyes held mine and electricity flooded through my veins and I turned away quickly.


	7. Esbern

**AN: Hey there! Sorry it has been so long. I've had next to no time thanks to all my music responsibilities. **** Well this was my writer's block chapter so this should go a lot smoother now that this is over! - Insert huge sigh of relief.**

**Reviews are awesome and so are follows/favorites!**

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Skyrim.**

The ratway really was an underground city the twists and turns followed their own intricate pattern weaving deadly, maze-like paths in which one could easily lose themselves. It was everything I had ever dreamed.

When I was young, my adoptive mother told me many stories about her days in the sewers of the Imperial city. "They went on for days!" She always said. Her tales of a warrior's life left behind baffled me. She had seen so much and yet she left Cyrodiil to the vast, windswept tundra of Skyrim. That never made sense to me.

The bit of standing water splashed up onto my legs startling me a bit. I heard a slight snicker from behind me, recognizing Lydia's patronizing attitude immediately. I turned my head and shot her an icy glare just in time to slam into Främling's strong back as she stopped suddenly.

She crouched and I followed suit, learning I would live longer if I did. It didn't surprise me when I heard footsteps "Lass Yah Nir..." A soft whisper came from beside me where the Imperial was crouched. A soft breeze rippled past me. "There are only two of them." She whispered.

Lydia nodded and rounded the corner. Shouts of alarm rose up from the two unsuspecting ratway dwellers. There were a series of clangs, curses and then it was silent again. Lydia appeared on front of us, sheathing her weapon and motioning us forward.

We continued on, stepping over the mangled bodies of the two bandits, the bloody water clinging to my fur boots. After a few more twist and turns, Främling let a shot fly from her dwarven bow.

The arrow clanged off a hanging clay lantern, knocking it free from its hook. It hit the ground with a crash. The flames licked at the shimmering water below before bursting to life. A blaze spread in all directions, a wall of fire. I could feel the heat from my place behind the Thane.

After a while, the oil mixed water was expended and the flames died. I looked at the Imperial questioningly. She paid me no mind and started off again. I realized soon after that there had been a horde of skeevers that had been killed in the blaze.

It seemed like a lifetime before we reached the first stop in our journey through the sewers: The Ragged Flagon. It was a round expanse, a cistern of sorts where the water that ran through the ratway collected in a round crater that left only a small stone pathway around the perimeter.

Small caves of a sort we cut into the outer wall creating small rooms that seemed unoccupied for the time being. On the far side of establishment, wood platforms extended over the water for more seating. A makeshift bar and tables dotted the stone floor.

We made our way over to the bar and Lydia and I stayed back a ways while Främling had a short conversation with the men occupying the bar stools. After a few, what appeared to be heated, words she returned to us. "That way, in the vaults."

When the steel door to the Flagon closed behind us, I felt the presence of a sinister force. I was reminded again of my bound hands. "Främling-" I started.

"I know." I scowled. She obviously didn't or she would have cut my bindings. "You'll be fine." She elaborated. Or maybe she did, my mind scoffed.

While I was having an argument with myself, I didn't even notice as Främling slipped off leaving me with Lydia. I gestured behind me, finally discovering the Imperial's absence.

"Now where'd she go?" I whispered harshly. Lydia shrugged which made my scowl deepen. Some houscarl she was. It was a few moments before the warrior reappeared, obviously missing some arrows.

"Thalmor. They're already here. They're after Esbern, so we must hurry." I sighed, seeing no alternative to following her orders. "Stay low. I don't think I found them all." I nodded as did Lydia.

We found ourselves in an open area that must have been the size of Dragonsreach's main hall. Cells lined the walls and I wondered if this is where the criminals were kept. I soon realized that all the locks were on the insides of the cells. It wasn't to keep them in, but rather keep others out.

Främling rattled some of the doors, asking for Esbern. She mostly got angry shouts, but some mentioned a heavily barricaded door. It took some time, but we finally found what they were talking about.

I watched as Främling pounded on the heavy steel door. An elderly voice called from inside.

"Go away!" I cringed at the volume of the voice. Someone would be sure to hear and I was in no mood to try and fight with bound hands.

"Esbern? Open the door. I'm a friend." The Imperial tried again, still trying to keep her voice down.

"What? No, that's not me. I'm not Esbern. I don't know what you're talking about." I rolled my eyes. How old was this guy? I was beginning to think he was senile.

"The Thalmor have found you. You need to get out of here." The Thane was obviously losing patience.

"Oh, how reassuring! More likely you're with the Thalmor and this is just a trick to get me to open the door!" He shot back quickly. A growl came from the woman beside me.

"Why you stubborn old-" I rested my hand gently in her tense shoulder. She sighed and collected herself again. "Delphine said to 'remember the 30th of Frostfall.'" There was silence for a few moments before I heard movement on the other side of the door.

"Ah... Indeed, indeed. I do remember... Delphine really is alive, then? You'd better come in then and tell me how you found me and what you want." There were a series of clicks and the jangle of chains before to door swung open on well-oiled hinges.

The man only reached up to Främling's shoulder, much like me. He was balding with a scruffy white beard. A tattered white shirt stretched over his muscled chest and draped down over brown trousers.

I slipped past him and began looking about the furnished room. It seemed that he had been here quite some time. I picked up nook after book, flipping through each quickly. There were a few on the Thalmor, a group called the Blades and also something called the Dragonborn.

I was vaguely aware of the conversation going on behind me, but it was until Lydia grabbed my shoulder that I tuned in. "They're here! Come on!" I was pulled roughly behind her when a blast of lightening flashed past us.

An arrow flew, a flame atronarch was summoned and we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by Altmer.


	8. Free at Last

**AN: Sorry this one is so short **** I don't really have all that motivation to write right now. It will be a while before I update again. I think I'll wait until spring break. Anyway, let me know what you think of this rather brisk chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Skyrim. **

I looked down at my unbound hands. I was free. I glanced around the dark corridor at Lydia and Främling and Esbern fighting for their lives. Now was my chance. All I had to do was slip a knife between her ribs and it would be over. My revenge would be fulfilled. I could finally move on.

I saw the Dovahkiin lean back and block one of the Thalmor's strikes only to lose her footing on the slick stone. Before I even had a chance to think, I threw myself at the elven-clad Altmer, burying my knife in his chest. Blood poured from his mouth onto my hands.

I looked back to where the Thane had been moments before to find her already back in the fight. You would think almost dying would phase her more, I thought to myself.

"Runt! Look out!" The call brought me back into the present. I spun just in time to dodge a well aimed crackle of lightening. I could feel the heat and energy dance along my bare arm, singeing the fine hairs there.

Främling turned on the attacker, throwing her steel war axe like a tomahawk. It slammed into the mages head with a sickening crunch and he fell dead. She shrugged her shield into her right hand and continued fighting with her left axe. It was a seamless flow in her battle style.

With one final swing from Lydia's sword, all the Thalmor laid lifeless. Esbern clapped me on the back smiling.

"Thank you."

The voice was so soft I almost didn't catch it. The Dragonborn had thanked me. I wasn't sure how I felt just yet and my emotions clashed inside. She retrieved her thrown axe and wiped it on the fine black robes of the dead Altmer.

I ground my teeth and spun on my heel, continuing my way through the rat way. My insides burned. I'd had my chance and I'd lost it. She was there and I had been free. I could have killed her!

I failed. I was weak. I didn't deserve to bear the title of avenger. She slaughtered my kin! She eliminated my family! I fumed feeling my face heat up.

A hand on my shoulder snapped me out of my thoughts, surprising me. I looked up, meeting Lydia's dark eyes. The Dragonborn was a few paces behind us, engrossed in a conversation with Esbern about the journey ahead.

"In order to live, you must forgive those that have transgressed against you." I shrugged her hand off and frowned.

"Easy for you to say." She didn't know how I felt. She couldn't and no one ever could. "She murdered my family!"

Lydia hushed me, glancing back at Främling to see if she'd heard me. She was still conversing with the old Blade. "She was doing her job. As Thane of all the holds, it is her duty to eliminate all possible threats."

"Oh! So now we're a threat because we live in a cave minding our own business?" I pushed on ahead of her, my bitterness and anger back full force along with a new feeling. Regret.

I regretted not killing her when I had the chance. I let myself fall into thoughtlessness as condensation dripped from the stonework around me. The sewers really weren't that bad. I could see myself living down here.

We reached the Ragged Flagon and I stopped. They passed me before realizing I was no longer following. The turned to me. "This is as far as I go. I'm free now."

My eyes met Främlings and I held her gaze for a moment before walking towards the bar. "I wish you would reconsider." The soft voice caught me off guard. "It will be lonely without you." The Imperial looked at me almost longingly, but I would not be swayed.

Saying nothing, I continued on my way to the bar and sat heavily, no longer feeling their presence. No longer feeling Främling.

I sighed. This was what I had been waiting for, for so long, so why did I feel so empty.


	9. Average Rift Day

**AN: Hey guys! I know it has been a loooong while on this story. If you want the truth it is because I stopped playing Skyrim because I just got THE NEW TOMB RAIDER! Super excitement aside, I'm getting back into Skyrim again and as such am continuing on. I want you to know that I may go for a while with updating, but I will always come back to it, so never fear. I delete stories I don't intend to finish. **

**Disclaimer: Nope… I still don't own Skyrim. Don't think I could handle it if I did. **

I slammed my tankard down on the bar counter. "Vekel! 'Nother round if you please!" I drawled. The nord came over and patted my shoulder.

"I don't think so little one. You've had enough. I know you're celebrating getting into the guild and all, but you should stay sharp." He went back to sweeping and left me to my own devices. I slipped off the barstool and trudged towards the rat way slowly.

"Hey! Don't walk away when there's still jobs to be done!" Vex called after me. I shrugged. She didn't like me too much and to be honest I wasn't her biggest fan ever. The blonde had been a thorn in my side since I'd started working for the guild. She hated new comers and didn't trust me one bit. I couldn't blame her too much, but her constant nagging was getting on my nerves. I had half a mind to put an arrow through her throat.

I slipped through the corridors and tunnels of the rat way silently. The only sound came from the splash of water and occasional shout from the vaults that rang out through the labyrinth. My feet gave a light "tunk" sound as I passed over the wooden drawbridge. I eventually came to the exit and pushed open the rusted door with a loud screech of unoiled metal. The sunlight shone down on Riften like an oppressive ray. It was summer now and the heat was damn near unbearable. I'd heard it was the hottest summer they'd had since the dawn of time. Many whispered about the dragons, that somehow the weather was their fault.

I jumped and heaved myself onto the ground level of the city, not bothering with the stairs which were crowded by citizens carrying all different sized crates filled with foods, material, and other fine goods. I smiled at the hustle and bustle. I'd never lived in such a busy place before, but I had to say it suited me. I didn't feel alone and it was as if I was just another body cluttering the warf. No one paid me any mind as I weaved my way through the mass of people.

The market place was a buzz of activity. People shouted their offers, haggling back and forth over the merchants' unfair prices. A band of khajiit Merchants had just traveled with their caravan and arrived in the city. I had smiled at the good fortune knowing that they were a prime target for the guild.

My black leather was becoming unbearable in the heat. It was soaking up the sun and radiating the burning intensity throughout my body. I was going to have to head back to my room at the inn and change into something a little lighter.

"I'm really getting tired of your excuses. When you borrowed the money, you said you'd pay it back on time and for double the usual fee." My ears picked up on the conversation before I could see who the voices belonged to.

"I know I did. But how was I to know the shipment would get robbed?" That piqued my interest. A shipment robbed? That sounded like a guild job, but nothing like that had been put out on the roster. I peered through the crowd from my place by the bee and barb. I could just barely make out black hair and guild armor. Sapphire!

"Next time, keep your plans quieter and nothing would have happened to it." She was speaking in menacing tones to a dark skinned young man by the name of Shadr, if I remembered correctly. His face contorted in confusion and anger.

"What? Are you telling me you robbed it? Why? Why are you doing this to me?" I felt my own blood boil. Shadr was not on the list! He could hardly even pay his taxes! The guild had honor and stealing from the poor was prohibited. A quiet growl passed through my lips.

"Look, Shadr. Last warning. Pay up or else. All I care about is the gold. Everything else is your problem." She turned and walked away in my direction. I crouched, hidden by the legs of people passing by. Just as she reached my position, I rolled behind her, undetected. I slipped my hand into her pocket and tugged out a handful of her possessions. A nearby nord was the perfect distraction. I bumped him causing him to stumble into my mark a bit, masking my touch. With that done, I made my way to Shadr. The young man was looking quite worried.

I stopped and leaned against the railing next to him. "I wouldn't worry about her too much. I'll take care of it." I vaulted backwards over the rail and plunged to the wood decking below with a soft thump. He wouldn't know who I was, but I could only hope that he would take my word for it. He looked around, but couldn't spot the owner of the voice. I nodded. Just the way I wanted to keep it.

"Time to go have a word with Sapphire."


	10. Can

The door to the Bee and Barb swung back on its hinges silently. The warmth of the hearth cut through the Skyrim night like a well sharpened blade. I smiled as I passed through the threshold and into the fire light. I'd been called away on guild work before I'd had a chance to talk to Sapphire, and now it was dark. The cold always followed the setting sun much as a shadow does its owner and the chill had been an unwelcome companion coming back from golden glow.

It was my first real job for the Thieves Guild. I knew that none of the members besides Vekel really trusted me, but the assignment had been my chance to strut my stuff. I had to say, I'd blown them away. Not only had I lit up the hives, but I'd cleared out the entire safe as well as the pockets of the mercenaries on guard there. Fine work if you asked me. Mercer had begrudgingly agreed to let me into the guild full time and gave me a new set of enchanted armor, not that I would use it. My black leather suited me just fine. Their browns weren't really my style, but I'd taken the enchantments and put them to good use.

All in a day's work for the best thief in the realm. A soft voice of the newest local bard flowed to my ears. She was singing the song of the dragonborn and man gathered around to listen. I, however, found my mark leaning against a nearby post, watching the bard intently. "Stealing from little boys? Isn't that a bit low?" She spun quickly to face me. "Ah well, I guess with the guild in decline you don't have much choice."

She glowered at me. "What do you want Kiriki?" I let a smug grin cover my face, half twisted in a scowl.

"Oh come now. Is that any way to treat a fellow guild-mate?" I dropped a small leather coin purse at her feet. "You leave Shadr alone, or things will get… uncomfortable for you."

She gathered the sack up in her hand and tugged at the drawstring. A few sapphires tumbled out along with a flawless diamond. "Is this?" I nodded, smiling. She clenched her fists and pushed past me, her footsteps echoing against the wood planking.

"Careful Sapphire. I might be tempted to tell Mercer you're not giving the guild their fair cut." A grunt of frustration was my only answer. I crossed my arms over my chest and made my way to the bar, groaning as my stiff muscles relaxed onto the stool. In my opinion, I'd had a relatively successful day. I was about ready to turn in for the night, but I had one confrontation left for the day as well as a second coin purse to deliver. "Keerava?"

The Silvery Argonian came out of the back wiping a plate down with a rag. "What can I do for you, dear?" I frowned and slid the purse across the bar.

"I'll go clean out my room. That should cover my tab and then some." I covered the old Argonian's scaled hand with my own calloused one, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You've showed me much kindness, but I have long over-stayed my welcome." I slipped off the stool and headed up the stairs to my room. My things were all where I'd left them. I only had a small leather bag stuffed with fur armor, some gold and a few enchanted trinkets I'd picked up through my jobs with the guild. I slung the bag over my shoulder, slipped my quiver and bow on and pulled my snow saber pelt from the bed.

When I turned around Keerava was leaning against the door frame. "Why are you leaving so suddenly? Are you heading out to meet up with your friends?" My expression darkened at the mention of Frӓmling. I hadn't seen her in more than a month, not since we'd parted ways in the flagon. I couldn't say I was at a loss.

"No. I'm staying in the city." I answered vaguely. She looked at me with confusion shining in her eyes.

"Then why not stay here? I already told you that there was no more charge for your stay. You've become part of the family, not to mention all the help you've given us keeping the Tavern-goers in line."

I shook my head and felt the guilt welling up inside me. "I was the one who came to collect your money for the guild. That was the extra money in the bag." I couldn't meet her eyes. I'd been trying to repay them for what I'd done, but I just couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave.

"You? But…"

I moved past her silently, waving over my shoulder before descending the stairs and leaving the Inn. I headed for the cistern. I'd take a cot there, but I couldn't poison my friends' hospitality with my presence any longer. I'd made my bed and now I had to lie in it.

**AN: Oh snap! Looks like Kiriki just can't catch a break. She makes friends, but only ends up hurting them in the end. Guess she'll never be anything but a bandit, huh? Hope you enjoyed! Things will be heating up in the love department soon so don't work ;) As always:**

**Read, Review, Follow or Favorite!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim!**


	11. Sleep Well?

**AN: Hmm… I wonder what our dear dragonborn is up to… Well let us take a look-see!**

**Read, Review, Follow or Favorite. The choice is yours.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim. Derp.**

"Quickly, to the temple! Move it you whelps!" A small crowd gathered just near the gates of Whiterun as Farkus and a few of the other Companions rushed in, carrying a Warrior garbed in strange fur armor, bearing striking resemblance to a werewolf's hide. One of the inner circle, Farkus, was carrying the warrior in his arms, his chest covered in blood. Lydia, the housecarl of the Thane, ran beside him.

"Can't you run any faster than that, Mutt?" Lydia bit at him. He growled and pressed harder, pushing his way through the throngs of people who had come to see what the commotion was about. The black haired nord could feel a lump forming in her throat. "Hold on, my Thane." It was a two minute sprint to the temple, but to the young woman it felt like forever.

"Please! You must help her!" One of the priestesses hurried over to assess the damage once the warrior was laid on a stone alter. They stripped the leather armor from her body leaving her in her now tattered chain mail.

"We must ask the men to leave." The golden haired nord said calmly. Farkus snarled, unhappy to leave his shield sibling, but complied. The others followed leaving only Lydia behind. "By Kynareth! What happened?" The woman whispered in horror. A rather deep gash ran from the dragonborn shoulder down to her hip, soaking the cloth and stone with thick, shimmering blood. Frӓmling groaned, her head lolling to the other side, her face pale like the snows of Skyrim.

Lydia paled a bit and her eyes shined with tears. "We were in one of the old ruins… the coffins broke open… It was an ambush and she… she-by the Divines! She saved my life, but-"

"Quickly, grab those cloths and put pressure on the wound." The priestess cut her off. "Kahli!" She called to one of the other girls, "I'm going to need a magicka potion!" The girl nodded and strode towards the store room. Lydia pressed down on the wound making her Thane cry out in agony. The warrior sputtered and coughed, opening the wound further until others were brought over to hold her down. "There are a few stone shards embedded in the wound. I'm going to have to cut them out, so hold her steady!" The priestess ordered.

After a few long hours of cutting and draining healing magic, Frӓmling lay sleeping, her body exhausted from the strain. "Will she pull through?" Lydia asked, hopeful.

The golden haired woman sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow. "I am unsure. It is up to her now." Lydia nodded and took a seat along the back wall of the temple, training her eyes on her Thane, the woman she now owed her life. She hadn't seen the trip wire and had stepped full on into one of the swinging axe blades' path to avoid an enemy attack. Frӓmling had seen it and shoved her down, taking the blow full force in the chest. It had been a few moments of intense fighting before anyone realized the warrior was down. She was gushing blood all over the dirty stone floor, and the members of the Companions had tried in vain to stop the bleeding. The Housecarl drifted into a sleep plagued by nightmares of swinging blades and pained screams.

Both women slept, blissfully unaware of the danger the dragonborn was in.

XxxxxXxxxxXxxxxX

"Sleep well?" Frӓmling awoke with a gasp, sitting up before crying out and crumpling in pain. Her chest and body throbbed and she strangled a sob in her throat, trying to take in her surroundings. It was dark, the only light coming from a nearby torch.

"Where am I?" She rasped, trying to pinpoint the voice that had spoken to her.

"Does it matter? You're warm, dry... and still very much alive. That's more than can be said for old Grelod. Hmm?" Finally the dragonborn noticed the woman clothed in a strange red and black garb. She was perched atop a cabinet, her leg swinging lazily.

The words finally broke through the injured woman's cobwebbed mind. "You know about that?"

The masked woman laughed loudly, making the Companion cringe at the volume. "Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around. Oh, but don't misunderstand. I'm not criticizing. It was a good kill. Old crone had it coming. And you saved a group of urchins, to boot. Ah, but there is a slight... problem. You see, that little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. For me, and my associates. Grelod the Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill... that you stole. A kill you must repay."

Frӓmling thought back to her recent trip to Windhelm. She had been looking to gain audience with her old brother in chains Ulfric. While she was there, however, she'd stumbled across a young lad performing the Black Sacrament. She'd listened to his tale and then set out for Riften, carefully avoiding all other travelers. She'd even made Lydia stay behind. No one could have known about what she was planning. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well now. Funny you should ask. If you turn around, you'll notice my guests. I've "collected" them from... well, that's not really important. The here and now. That's what matters. You see, there's a contract out on one of them, and that person can't leave this room alive. But... which one? Go on, see if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make your kill. I just want to observe... and admire." The Thane scoffed and headed painstakingly towards the door.

Her voice made the warrior stop. "I'll cut right to it. You murdered the old woman in the orphanage. You owe the Dark Brotherhood a kill. I've come to collect. One of these poor sods has a contract out on their life. Which one is it? Any idea? Make your choice. Make your kill. And you get to walk away."


	12. Torn Apart

**As always: Read, Review, Follow or Favorite!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim. **

"I would like to officially extend to you an invitation to join my Family. The Dark Brotherhood. In the southwest reaches of Skyrim, in the Pine Forest, you'll find the entrance to our Sanctuary. It's just beneath the road, hidden from view. When questioned by the Black Door, answer with the correct passphrase: 'Silence, my brother.' Then you're in. And your new life begins. I'll see you at home." Frӓmling Stumbled to the door, stunned. Once she was outside she dropped to her knees.

Murder. She'd killed an innocent twice. That wasn't the path she'd planned for herself after being set free from bondage. Bile rose up in her throat and she heaved onto the ground, feeling misery sink deep into her bones. She didn't know how long she sat there unmoving, but the sun was beginning to set when she gathered her bearings and headed towards Morthal where she could rest and also send word to Lydia.

XxxxxXxxxxXxxxxX

I was aware of the body standing behind me long before they made themselves known. The thing about the thieves' guild was that someone was always trying to get the drop on you. I was the best sneak they had and I was quite proud of it, so anyone trying to take that name from me had a few things to learn. My black leather boots stirred the water around them as I leaned back on my hands, releasing the tension in my back and sighing softly.

I tilted my head back to look up into the deep blue eyes of none other than Sapphire. "You're going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to catch me off guard hot shot." I grumbled, my voice gravely from disuse. I hadn't had a decent conversation in a few days.

"What are you doing?" She drawled, planting a foot in my back and knocking the wind out of me. I scowled.

"Well aren't you the charmer? Last time I checked I wasn't in your way, so how about you get out of mine?" She smirked and pushed me a bit more before standing back a few steps and crossing her arms. I went back to staring at the water before realizing that she hadn't left. "Can I help you?"

"You never answered my question." She stated matter-of-factly. I groaned and rolled my head on my shoulders before standing and facing her.

"I don't know what you want to hear!" I shot back louder than necessary. She raised her eyebrows at me and I flushed realizing that a few of the others had turned to look.

Her face softened and she motioned for me to follow her. I did, eventually, staring at the uneven stonework the whole way. Rune laid a hand on my shoulder in comfort and I smiled at him. Sapphire led me to the training room and situated herself on an empty chest. I'd cleared them all out after a few days of being there, though it had taken me a hundred lockpicks and hours of my time.

"You haven't been taking any jobs recently. What gives? You're not helping us by sitting around wasting good air." It was harsh, maybe, but it was the truth. I didn't want to risk taking a Bee and Barb job. I couldn't do that. I'd never really had morals before, being a bandit and all. I guess I'd never known what it was like to care about someone besides comrades.

"I'm sure others have had slumps before. What's the big deal? A week without taking a job never killed anyone." Her brow furrowed and she let her hands drop in exasperation. I busied myself picking at a nearby target.

"Kir." I turned and found myself face to face with the coldest woman in existence and yet her eyes were warm. "Losing your touch is one thing, losing your nerve is another. I've seen both and I know that you're dealing with neither. Why are you giving up?"

I folded my hands behind my head and turned away, not wanting her to see my inner turmoil. "It's stupid. You'll laugh." I felt like a child crying over a cold winter.

Her hands found my shoulders. "I won't." Her breath in my ear made me shiver.

"Just let it be." I shrugged her off and stalked off, my head reeling and my heart throbbing. I felt torn apart. She was attractive sure, but then why did it hurt so badly to be near her? A name appeared in my mind, but I dispelled it before it fully registered.

**AN: Hey! It's been a while, I know. So here's another chapter. Looks like things are going to get a bit interesting with both characters questioning who they are and what they stand for. The hero turned villain? The villain brought to the side of justice? **

**Note: If you like this, check out my profile. I'll keep you guys updated on how stories are coming along, tentative update times and more! Sound like an infomercial yet? Act now and I'll double the offer! I'll even tell you about my other stories too! I'm done now. I promise… :3**


	13. These Hands

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim, nor will I ever own Skyrim!**

"My Thane! I'm so glad you are well!" Frӓmling shrugged off Lydia's hand and made her way to the chair, slumping in it tiredly. She hadn't been sleeping well. Lydia faltered a bit, but tried not to let it show. "How did you end up here? I fell asleep for one moment and you were gone the next." Her eyes were burning with curiosity, but the dragonborn did not respond.

Lydia sat heavily across from the Imperial, trying to read her. Her face was pale, tinged a bit green. Her hair had lost its luster and her eyes which usually held such intensity had dulled._ How could this have happened? She was fine not long ago._

"I have to make a pilgrimage." The words were soft, nothing like the commanding tone not usually lost on the woman. Lydia stood immediately.

"Then we shall set out at once, my Thane!" She was willing to do anything to cure the warrior of whatever illness had its grip on her. She pulled her battle axe from its resting place against the table and secured it once again on her back. Frӓmling did not move from her place. Lydia looked at her, confused.

The Imperial lowered her eyes to her hands. She had been inspecting them as if they were strange to her, some deformity of her well-balanced self. Images of horror flashed in her eyes, death after death replaying in her mind. The torchlight flickered and danced casting shadows about her like a black cloak. There was none of the calm collectiveness that had been the warrior's constant companion. Things had changed. "No, Lydia." Her voice was deep and jagged much like an unpolished blade. "This is something I must do on my own."

Lydia stood again, fire overtaking her stance. "Out of the question! You are in no condition to go on your own! What if you were to be attacked?"

"Leave it be!" The sudden harsh of her words struck the Nord much like a hand. "Leave it be…" She repeated, softer this time.

XxxxxXxxxxXxxxxX

"What have you got for me?" I asked, cracking my knuckles.

Vex smirked and clapped me on the back. "The prodigy had returned." I rolled my eyes and swiped the paper out of her hand detailing my next mark. "Hey." She called quietly as I turned to leave. "You back for good?"

I shrugged and slipped the parchment into a pocket on my vest. It felt good to be back. I'd spent a few long weeks working at the blacksmith's. He was training me to be a fine member of the craft and it had been a good way to keep my mind from more unpleasant thoughts. My leather was now studded in ebony with minor adjustments to the buckles and quality of the leather. It was sleek, polished and best of all much more durable.

I had also managed to upgrade my bow to a limber fire-hardened hickory. The layers of wood ran grain against grain in a sturdy yet flexible blend of elegance and power. While the different metals stoked in the coals I had taken the time to carve intricate designs into the bow, a timeline of events in my live beginning with the attack on my village and ending with my initiation into the thieves' guild. The wood was coated in a black dye from the different ingredients of the area surrounding Riften, mixed for me by none other than Maven Black-Briar's daughter, Ingun.

Vex teased me incessantly about my increasing interactions with the girl, but they were entirely unfounded. I didn't have time for courtship, even if I had been taking a break from guild work. "Out for a job?" A smooth voice murmured in my ear, far too close for me not to have noticed sooner.

"What the- Sapphire!" I growled, irritated. Her tinkling laugh seemed to project from everywhere at one.

"You should have _seen _the look on your face just then!" I scowled at her antics and brushed her aside, but she would not be dissuaded so easily. "Oh come o Kiriki, lighten up." It was becoming a rumor that I had taken the Ice queen's place ever since she found a source of amusement in causing me mental as well as bodily harm. Sometimes I wondered if she was more suited for the Dark Brotherhood. "Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the cot."

I let the emotion drop from my face. "I wouldn't have if your mild-drinking arse hadn't fallen in next to me." Her face flushed and she glared. I mentally tallied myself another point.

"You know damn well that was a mistake!" She glowered. Now it was my turn to laugh at her misfortune.

"Ya fumbled around like a drunken bandit!" The humor left her eyes immediately. I felt as though I had been physically shoved out of the conversation and walls had built up in the space. She turned curtly and strode off, leaving me entirely confused as to what exactly had just happened.

I threw my hands up in exasperation before taking off after her. "Women." I muttered under my breath.

**AN: As if you weren't one Kir! Oi, that girl just does not have any people skills. Didn't she read the Character Bios? Sapphire does not have a good relationship with Bandits! Ah well. She'll learn. And what about Frӓmling? Taking a walk on the wild side are we? Hope you enjoyed this installment of Just a Bandit! **


	14. Mercer

**AN: I'm back~ Yes indeedy, I will finish this story! It shouldn't actually be too much longer. I have a few more plot points to hit before the end. Thanks for sticking with me on this!**

**As Always: Read, Review, Follow or Favorite. Check the profile for update info.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim!**

_Be still. Become the night. Feel the shift in airwaves, every particle brushing your skin like the softest whisper. There, on your left; there is the wall. Two... no three steps. Alright. Boulder, one o'clock. Feel the pebbles underfoot. Anticipate their shift and pivot. Now inhale, exhale. Good. _

_Listen. Stop and listen... there it is again! Focus. I'm sure now. It's faint but... Close your eyes and listen. Become stillness. Now, shift your left hand and pull the clip._ The ebony bow slipped easily into my hands. _Sense your prey, not with your eyes. Sense them before they sense you. Now, aim. Listen again. Fire!_ The arrow flew from the bowstring, its aim true. A cry of pain and surprise cut through the still of the cave. The man whirled about, eyes scrapping through the darkness trying to find his attacker.

It was useless. He tore the arrow from his hand more recklessly than he should have and his sword clattered to the ground, useless. I glided across the cave floor, sidestepping the obstacles in my way. I drew close, so close that my breath skittered across is neck. He spun to face me, but I was already gone, key in hand.

A spark of betrayal and anger spurred me onward. I needed those glyphs! For all my family in the guild.

The door swung open a crack on well-oiled hinges and I slipped through. Two guards chatted away a ways down. I slipped down a nearby staircase and crept forward. Suddenly, a burning erupted in my chest. I couldn't seem so get in a breath before I choked again and sputtered. _Gas._ I thought, _An amateur mistake on my part._

I pulled my black scarf up to my nose, breathing through it. The sweet scent of deathbell and other herbs washed over me. It was my own little concoction that I'd discovered while working with Maven's daughter.

I rolled out of the green fog and slipped past the guards, smiling at their ignorance.

After a few hours of careful footing and well placed arrows, I emerged from the museum roll of parchment in hand. I breathed in the crisp Markarth air, smelling the meat from the market place. If ever there were a city that suited me, it was the city of stone. The waterfalls rushed my, dumping hundreds of kegs of water at a time. It was the most beautiful city in all of Skyrim.

I donned my red tunic over my ebony plated leather and tugged off my hood, allowing my now close-cropped hair to ruffle lightly in the afternoon breeze. The door to the Silver-Blood Inn, dropping onto one of the stools by the bar and sliding a few gold onto the counter.

"Did you hear? The Shatter-Shields lost another just last week!" My ears were drawn to an old couple resting by one of the hearths, enjoying a meal.

"Was it... the Dark Brotherhood?" The woman asked fearfully, her voice quivering.

He nodded, stroking his beard as if pondering one of life's mysteries. "I would venture it was. I hear they have some new initiate. Cold as the night that one. It is rumored that she wears a werewolf round her and breathes fire."

"You old codger! That's nonsense!"

I turned from the conversation of the old man and woman, sipping at my mead. That sounded a lot like... no. It couldn't be her. And if it was, well, that was good luck for me. I would have my revenge on the Imperial if it was the last thing I did. I finished my mead in one long gulp and placed the frosted mug back on the counter. I hopped off the stool, saluting the keep slightly before heading off. I had to get back to Riften. I had a bastard to fry.

_I'm coming for you Mercer! You won't get away with what you did to Sapphire!_


	15. Responsibility

**AN: Hey there readers! Didja miss me? NO? Well fine then *sob* okay so I'm posting this chapter because it has been eating at my insides for a week now and I felt bad for leaving for so long. In case you couldn't tell, my motivation has all but up and disappeared. I hope you can forgive me. I've also noticed a sever lack of reviews in any and all recent posts which makes me one very sad writer. But I will survive! Even if I have to write for just myself!**

**As always: Read, Review, Follow or Favorite. Hit the profile for wonderful stories and terrible self-promotion! Just kidding. It has wonderful information about upcoming posts and stories so hop to it! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim. If you haven't figured that out by now…**

_He was never one of us. _I reminded myself harshly as Mercer fell limp in my hands, blood dripping down his leather, mixing with the murky waters of the collapsing Dwemer ruin. There was still a sharp tug at my heart as one of my mentors fell to the flagstone, a slight spray in his wake. He had taught me much of what I knew and maybe I had never liked him, but I owed him for some of the life I was living. It was because of him that I even managed to obtain a position in the guild. _Poor bastard never stood a chance._

The clamor behind me brought me out of my thoughts. Through the slit in the black nightingale hood I saw the source of all the panic. Fresh water streams burs from the overhead pipes, filling the closed off chamber at nearly ten times the speed. "Damn it! Karliah, Brynjolf! We have to get out of here! Any ideas?" Dread filled every inch of my being as I shoved the eyes of the Falmer into a soft leather padded bag I'd obtained from a merchant in Riverwood. I'd always had this terrible fear of drowning.

I couldn't hear their response over the rushing of the water which was already up to my neck. I silently found myself wishing Frӓmling was with me, but I pushed the thought aside and allowed anger to overcome me. Taking a deep breath, I dove under the water's surface, peering through its dark depths. The swirling currents hit me with reeling force and I had to keep my wits about me to avoid becoming disoriented. My gloved fingers felt around the floor of the room, scrounging about for any sort of drain, exit, anything at all.

I propelled myself to the surface which had gotten much further away in the few seconds I'd been under. We were running out of space… fast. My heart, which was already pounding, picked up the pace. It felt as though it would burst from my chest at any moment. A hand gripped my arm as the ceiling drew near. Karliah motioned to me just as the water met the cavernous ceiling. She pulled me a little until I realized what she was trying to tell me. She'd found an escape.

We swam quickly to a hole in the seemingly sealed off room. My lungs burned and I burst through the water gasping and coughing. I was blind as dirt and water stung my eyes making it impossible to see, but I scrambled forward anyway, following the incoherent sounds of voices. I clawed at the dirt trying desperately to get to my feet, but it was impossible. My entire body shook with tremors and my knees gave out on me causing me to fall to the dirt. I was only vaguely aware of something dragging me along the ground before unconsciousness overtook me.

After a while, voices flitted into my groggy mind. "He's dead. I saw…. Are you sure…. Can't…. what it that isn't the end of…." I groaned, trying to tune out the pieces of disconnected speech. A boot found its way between my ribs.

"Come on lass. Nap time is over. We have to get back to the guild." I coughed a few times and spat out a glob of iron tasting blood, noticing a tooth.

"Stupid arse knocked out a molar. Good to see you too, Brynjolf. I find myself wishing that you'd drowned." A rumble of laughter met my remark as I was yanked none too gently to my feet. I took a glance at the stars before heading off. "Well we'd best make haste if you intend to be back before nightfall tomorrow." The two silently fell in step beside me and we made our way side by side through the dark night of the Skyrim tundra.

XxxxxXxxxxXxxxxX

"So he's dead is he?" I didn't need to look behind me to know who it was. Strong arms wrapped around me from behind and I leaned into the embrace. I had traded my nightingale garb for my red tunic once again, a soft white scarf wrapped up over my head protecting me from the slight chill of the night. After our return to Riften, there had been a celebration as I had returned with not only the honor and luck of the guild, but also a great treasure that had been sought after for generations. There was much mead and song, but I'd snuck away, not one to dwell in festivities when I still had such a monumental task ahead of me.

Sapphire rested her chin on my shoulder. "I have avenged the death of your friend, yes." She nodded.

"So what are you doing out here? Everyone has been asking about you, hoping that you'll take your rightful place as guild master." The unasked question in her last statement lingered.

_You know I can't stay. _"I needed to be up high, in the air and away from the damn water. I've had enough of that to last a lifetime." The midnight haired woman chuckled, her chest rumbling.

"So you climbed to the top of the Jarl's palace?" A smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

"You have to admit it is a beautiful view." We lapsed into a slightly strained silence, but I was content to just be for a moment. I was heading out at dawn to search for the elusive murderer whose company I had not been in for three seasons now. I had to have my revenge.

The night sky was clear of clouds, the moon full. It was as if the world was at peace with balance restored once again. "When are you going?" She asked softly.

"I leave at first light." Was my quiet response.

I could feel the disappointment radiating from her. I wished that she could somehow feel that it was just as hard for me. "Well then I suppose we only have tonight together. Will you return?"

I turned to face her, cupping a cheek with my hand. "I don't know." I could see the muscle in her jaw working, fighting down the emotions struggling to free themselves. She looked at me intently for a moment before crashing her lips to mine. In that moment she didn't taste like honey, but as the salt of tears and heartache. I gave in to her, knowing that this very well might be the last time we would be together. The night we spent together was something new to me, something that I would treasure for the rest of my life. She was my first love, though my young heart did not realize it at the time.


	16. On My Way

**AN:**

**As always: Read, Review, Follow or Favorite. You know where to go for other info.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim.**

Brynjolf looked at me skeptically, but I wouldn't budge on the matter. The Ragged Flagon bustled with new activity. Merchants had moved back in, taking up their original residences and setting up shop. The Guild was back up and running. It was even rumored that Maven was referring them to others in different holds. Things were finally back on track. "It isn't that much of a hardship for you, that much I know."

I could tell he was fighting an internal battle, but eventually he caved. "Alright lass, fine. The Bee and Barb is safe from the guild. We'll protect it for you, though it may be hard to convince thieves to do an honest day's work."

I smiled and chuckled, resting a hand solidly on his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find a way to convince them." I let the humor leave my features and leveled my gaze to him. "I truly appreciate what you've done for me. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you."

He grinned. "I'm sure you'll find a way, lass. Though I could say that I still owe you for all that you've done for the guild. We wouldn't be where we are now without your help, of that I am sure." The Red haired man turned and walked away, leaving me smiling at the bitter-sweetness of the moment. I was going to miss him. I was going to miss all the guild members, even Vex.

My walk through the ratway was a slow one and I took in all I could of my surroundings, not knowing when I would be back. I had one last order of business in Riften before heading out to Solitude, the last known hit of the dark brotherhood, of Frӓmling.

The bright sun of the Rift shined down on me as I exited the sewers and made my way top-side. Throngs of people skittered about in the now familiar pattern of a bustling market district. "Thief, stop!" It was music to my ears knowing that newbies were having their fair share of difficulty. A well placed arrow soared over me and slammed into a wood post where the young guild member had been only moments ago.

I could feel my spirit lighten considerably at the commotion. I slipped for the chaos into the relatively quiet Bee and Barb. I picked out the two Argonian owners in their usual spots, despite the vacant building. It was the slow hour of the day, that much I knew. It took a few moments for the pair to notice me.

"Talen, Keerava." I said softly, suddenly less sure of myself. The came towards me cautiously, stopping a few paces from me. A few moments of tense silence passed, me watching them and them doing just the same. I couldn't read the emotion on their scaled faces, but I didn't have to wait long before I was gathered into a solid embrace. Keerava's toned arms held me close and my face contorted into one of confusion.

"You idiot!" Keerava whispered harshly pushing me away and assailing me with an open palm. My face stung and my confusion intensified. "Where were you? We were so worried!" I opened my mouth to speak before Talen joined the conversation.

"She wouldn't stop talking about you, how I had to go and bring you back." I stepped back a few steps, shaking my head.

"Why would you… I betrayed you!" I cried, trying to make them understand why they should be throwing me out or at the very least be angry at my presence.

Keerava stepped closer and cupped my still stinging cheek. "You made one mistake. How would that ever qualify our hatred?" I blinked rapidly, trying to fight back tears of relief and regret. Talen pulled me to him and Keerava joined the embrace. It felt like I was coming home.

Moments later I was on a barstool eating a warm lunch and sipping on a cool glass of water with each of the Argonians on either side. We conversed lightly as if there had never been a day between us and I was once again shocked at the strength of friendship. Growing up, such bonds had not been consequential. Sure I'd had Klinker, Gelthar, and Karla, whom I thought of often, but I'd never truly stayed in one place long enough to feel the pull.

"You won't have to worry about the guild any longer." I explained. "I worked out a deal with the leader." The surprise was evident on each of their faces. It felt good to be able to pay them back for all their hospitality and all the times they put up with me.

"Well," said Talen. "We truly appreciate it." Keerava nodded her agreement, but then turned a harden gaze on me.

"You didn't come here just to tell us that." I was taken aback by her astute observation.

"You would be correct with that statement. I came to say goodbye as well." A dull ache settled in my chest at the thought of leaving now that I had made amends, but I knew it had to be done.

"Are you going after her?" The Argonian woman questioned quietly.

I nodded my confirmation. "I must. I will not rest until I avenge my comrades, no matter the cost." The old woman smiled sadly, knowing in her heart that she could not dissuade me from my mission. I had put it off long enough and now that I had a lead, I simply could not let the murderer slip through my fingers again.

A clink brought my attention to a coin purse on the counter. It was the same one I'd given to them months ago. "Then you will need this." I struggled against my pride and took the gift, not protesting despite myself.

"Thank you." It was simple and honestly much less than they deserved, but It was all I had to offer. With my final goodbyes said, I headed for the front gate, leaving behind as many memories as friends. I knew that somewhere in the city, Sapphire was probably stalking her next mark and I hoped that she would not miss me. I couldn't bear to cause her that kind of pain.

I reached the carriage on the outskirts of the city. "Where to?" The blond Nord asked. I tossed him the gold filled pouch.

"Solitude. I go to Solitude." He jerked a thumb to the cart.

"Climb in back and we'll be off." I followed the instructions and clambered up and onto one of the benches. I was on my way finally, on the road to vengeance.


	17. More Than Killers

**AN: The next few chapters are going to be about Frӓmling, so I hope you guys don't mind too much. I will be following part of the dark brotherhood quest line and trying to give you a feel for how our favorite little Dragonborn has changed in her months amongst the ranks of the brotherhood.**

**As always: Read, Review, Follow and Favorite. Profile for update info.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim.**

Frӓmling entered the sanctuary, the warmth of the candles cutting some of the chill from the crisp air. The black door closed behind her with a solid clang and footsteps could be heard from further in as well as quiet conversations. Gabriella met her at the bottom of the stairs. "Ah, at last. I've been anxiously awaiting your return," the mage and fast friend of the Imperial drawled.

"Gaius Maro is dead." The warrior stated plainly, not one to dance around the subject. Through the long months working for the brotherhood, she had become accustomed to the fact that she killed people who probably did not deserve to die.

From deep within her cowl, the alchemist responded while idly picking at her fingernails. "Yes. I know. As does Astrid. You have done well, and have earned both your reward and a bonus as I may have mentioned." The Imperial nodded. She accepted the gold and the token to the old seer in Whiterun and was about to head to her cot for some well needed sleep when Gabrielle stopped her. "But… you should know that we have a more pressing matter to deal with." The dark elf's deep voice was grave and serious as always, but there was a hint of something more that compelled Frӓmling to lay a hand of comfort on her friend's robed shoulder.

"It's… Cicero." The Dragonborn bristled immediately at the mention of the Jester. She remembered how he had acted when he brought the night mother to the sanctuary. She didn't trust him and she most certainly didn't like him. Gabrielle felt the tension in the taller woman's grip and sent her a reassuring glance. "There has been an incident," she continued. "You should proceed into the Sanctuary. I'll let Astrid explain."

The Imperial nodded and let her hand fall from its resting place, passing her friend quietly as ever and heading to the main room. "Just try to relax Veezara. Let the elixir do its work. You'll feel better shortly," came the voice of the child vampire Babette. Hearing this, the warrior quickened her gait.

She reached the practice targets only to find everyone crowded around their Argonian assassin who was resting on the stone floor near a pool of blood. Frӓmling felt the beast in her strain against its mental bonds, hungry for vengeance. "Ah… thank you, dear. You are most kind." Veezara assured her. "The jester's cut feels as bad as it looks, I'm afraid." Despite herself, the Imperial winced remembering her own wound all too well.

Astrid interjected angrily. "Damn it, this never should have happened! We knew better. We knew better and still we let our guards down. Agh!" Frӓmling could feel her anger. It permeated the room and yet it somehow felt directed at her.

Festus sighed, looking for once as old as he truly was. "I'll admit, even I'm having a hard time disagreeing with you." It was then that they all seemed to notice the Imperial.

Astrid turned to her. "Maro is dead, I know. But we've got bigger problems right now!"

"Gabrielle mentioned something about Cicero…" Frӓmling tried gently, not wanting to set off the ticking time bomb in front of her. That was the problem with living with a group of highly trained killers.

The nord sighed, her anger seemingly abated and the calm taking over once again. "The fool went absolutely berserk! He wounded Veezara, tried to kill me and then he fled. I knew that lunatic couldn't be trusted."

After more discussion and details from the rest of the group, the dragonborn receded and went off to search Cicero's quarters to look for an indication of where the little madman had gone. She trudged up the steps, wishing she had been in the sanctuary. Astrid had almost been killed and the warrior felt it was her duty to make it up to her leader. The woman may have been cold, but ultimately she had taught the Imperial about the things she most didn't understand. She taught her about the other side of the coin, the darkness that the warrior had constantly battled.

"Problem, dear?" The Imperial spun around, surprised to see Gabrielle leaning against the doorframe of the jester's room. "You were muttering to yourself." The Dunmer chuckled, pushing off her resting place and coming to stand beside the distraught woman. "It isn't your fault, friend. You were off on an assignment. You are not to blame."

"I should have been here I could have stopped the little rodent. It is my duty to protect the brotherhood and I failed!"

"Honestly, Frӓmling. Where do you get that damn loyalty of yours? We're murderers. You don't own any of us anything." The Imperial snapped shut the book she had been leafing through and tucked it under her arm, sending Gabrielle a scathing glare.

"You know damn well you're more than just murderers to me." With that she brushed past the woman for the second time that evening and went to find Astrid, still clutching Cicero's Journal.


	18. Death Itself

**AN: I bet you were all waiting for this! Nah, not really. Okay here we go.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim.**

_Mangy mutt… _Frӓmling thought as she stood over Arnbjorn. The wolf man was lying in a large pool of his own tainted blood. The Imperial had never liked him just as he had never liked her. They had an understanding to hate each other from afar, but now, seeing him like this, the dragonborn felt a small twinge of pity for the man. Perhaps they had their differences, but she knew that if she needed help he would be willing to lend a… paw. "Should have figured Astrid would send you." His gruff voice rumbled.

Despite her animosity, the Imperial dropped to a knee by her comrade, releasing some healing magic to the worst wounds. "You're hurt." She could feel the pain ravaging the man.

"What gave it away?" He barked sarcastically through gritted teeth. The warrior scoffed and continued her work. The assassin let out some remorseful laughter. "Yeah, got to admit that little jester is good with that butter knife. But don't worry, I gave as good as I got."

Frӓmling snorted. "Of that I am sure. Where is Cicero now?" she asked, remembering only then to scan the area for the enemy. She scolded herself. _I have to pay more attention! He could have rounded on me by now! _ Arnbjorn quickly waved her worries.

"In there!" He motioned behind himself. "Through the door. Some old Sanctuary by the looks of it." He groaned and clutched at his chest. "I would have followed him, but I don't know the phrase." Framling chose not to point out that he was in no condition to have followed the madman and that he most likely would have died.

"I know the phrase. I'll get Cicero- you go home." She gave him a pointed look that stopped any arguments from the stubborn man.

"All right, you convinced me." He winced and bowed over more. "Doubt I'd be much good to you, anyway. The little fop cut me pretty deep." A wide grin broke out on his bloody face. "But I slashed him pretty good. Pretty sure I severed an artery. Don't know what you're going to find in there… but you can probably just follow the blood." The Imperial nodded and helped him to his feet, starting off without any further words. She could feel her heart pounding in her ribs, but whether it was from anxiety or excitement, she couldn't tell.

She approached the Black Door with light steps, stopping just on the threshold. The voice entered her head shortly after, but it was expected. "What is life's greatest illusion?" It hissed.

Bowing her head and clearing her mind, she sent out the message, the words resounding off the edges of her mind. They were words that she felt deeply and believed to be true, especially after all she'd seen. "Innocence, my Brother."

She could feel a dark force smiling upon her. "Welcome home." The voice came again. A creak was all that was heard as the door bearing the visage of Sithis swung open on ancient hinges. The stairwell was dark and smelled like stale, moldy air. The stench burned her nostrils, but she pushed onward following the steady trail of scarlet that wound down the path.

"Listener! Is that you?" The screech was that of a man filled with fear and agony. The dog must have gotten him pretty deep. "Oh, I knew you'd come. Send the best to defeat the best. Astrid knew her stupid wolf couldn't slay sly Cicero." The warrior growled at his use of Astrid's name. She was a great leader and he had no right to speak of her that way. He wasn't good enough to be the dirt on her boots.

She reached the bottom of the steps and to the first corridor. Candles lit the room and cast an eerie glow on everything. Framling could feel adrenaline fill her system and she prepared for an attack from any side. She glanced to her left where she spotted a small table. She peered at its contents curiously. It appeared to be a set of jester garments. Forgoing any extra burden, she carried on. Creeping forward cautiously, she pulled open the next door. Seeing nothing, she stepped through.

Her only warning was a slight shift in the air current. Going with her instinct, she rolled forward, just barely dodging the attack from her ghostly adversary. The blue glowing figure recoiled from his first attack and brought his blade to bare down on her daedric bow which she brandished as a shield. His strength was overwhelming in her current exhaustion, but she managed to glance the blow off one side. Leaping backwards she found herself at a wall with no room to move. She was trapped.

The shimmering figure started for her again, aiming a low thrust towards her abdomen. The warrior spun to her left, the spirit weapon digging a deep gash in the stone against which she had just been leaning. Using her momentum, she pivoted, flipping over her foe. She drew a dagger from her belt quickly and thrust behind her, imbedding the silver blade in the apparition's back. She panted, stumbling forward to one knee trying to regain her breath. Her vision swam for a moment, but she forced herself onwards after retrieving her weapon. She summoned an ebony blade and placed her bow back on its clip, moving ever forward.

She passed a small garden in an alcove on her left and carried on. Moments later the jester's voice pierced the silence. "Oh, but this isn't at all what Mother would want. You kill the Keeper, or I kill the Listener? Now that's madness!" His voice grated on every one of Frӓmling's nerves and she vowed to slit his throat the moment she found him.

Heaving breaths through tired lungs, she reached a small rope and black bridge strung across a small corridor. She started across only to fall to the decking, a hissing spike spearing the air just above her. Her arms screamed in protest as she pulled herself under the trap and ever forward. "Ouch! Pointy, pointy! My home is well defended. I always have been a stickler for details. Get it? 'stick-ler.'" He cackled making the Imperial cringe and her beast spirit seethe. "Oh I slay me!"

Groaning, the dragonborn took to a gentle jog down the next stairwell, not bothering with secrecy any longer as it was obvious that the little milk-drinker knew where she was. She reached the area under the bridge and was headed for a short hallway when a snap overhead caught her attention. Too late she realized what the sound was. Fire sprung up under her feet in a blast so powerful she was thrown back against the brickwork. The oil coated floor was alight with searing flames in an instant, taking two other ghostly figures with it. The skin on her arm was a testament to the heat of the fire and she screeched as the flesh bubbled under the terrible burn. She sprinted through the blaze, the flames licking at her skin and hair.

The stench of burning flesh was her companion as she limped forward, trying to shake the haze of pain and fatigue that resonated within her. She did what she could with her healing magic, but only succeeded in tiring herself further. "You're… still alive. Cicero respects the Listener's abilities, of course, but could you at least slow down a bit? I'm not what I used to be. Heh." He sounded faint which was about the only luck thing that had happened for the woman since she arrived at the accursed sanctuary. She shook her thoughts and slunk through room after room and hall after hall until she reached an unusual tunnel. It looked more like a cave than an actual part of the architecture.

Snow and ice covered all sections of the rock and mist obscured her footing to the point of near blindness, but what really worried her were the sounds echoing off the walls. She nearly jumped when the other human occupant of the hideout spoke again. "Brrr! Chilly! You'll enjoy this. Not an original part of the Sanctuary, per se. Let's call it a 'forced addiction.' Forced by what? Oh, come and see!"

The warrior rounded the next bend and her breath hitched in her throat. There, just barely visible through all the fog, was a troll. In her current state, she knew she was no match for the beast. It would have been better to cut her losses and run, but she had a job to do. Steeling her courage, she fired a shot from her bow. The arrow imbedded itself deeply in the monster's thick hide, but it now had a target.

Maneuvering itself on its muscular front arms, it charged. She could hear its grunts coming closer as she scrambled for higher ground. A paw collided with her back, shattering a few ribs and knocking her breath from her already feeble lungs. She landed in a heap against the cold wall of the cave. A maw of razor sharp teeth latched onto her forearm and a scream tore itself from her throat as she was hoisted into the air and flung around. She could hear more snapping and honestly didn't want to know what it was coming from. Every part of her body felt as if it were being dipped in molten lead. The strong jaw released her and she sailed through the air again, crumpling and waiting for death to take her.

She weakly looked around with failing vision. Her eyes landed on a spike of ice protruding from the smooth surface of the wall next to her. Feeling death approaching quickly, she made a final decision. She drew her beaten and hardly functioning body to its full height and with a shaky breath shouted, gaining the beasts attention. As expected, six terrible eyes stared at her for a moment before the monster charged one final time. With the last of her energy, the Imperial launched herself out of the way. A distinct roar sounded behind her as the troll impaled itself on the icy spear, ending its life.

Frӓmling could hardly even get a breath into her lungs through the pain. She couldn't even tell the extent of the damage to her body, though she knew it was life threatening. Blood built up in her throat and pumped itself out her nose, staining the snow crimson. In halting, excruciating movements, she forced her broken arm to scrounge around in the pouches on her belt until unsteady fingers clasped around a smooth vial. She brought the bottle to her lips, biting off the cork and dumping the contents into her mouth.

Heat filled her body and the edge of pain drifted slowly. For a while she didn't move, merely laying in her crumpled and painful heap. She thought about how pathetic she was being, but couldn't quite bring herself to care. She knew that the worst of the wounds had been healed, however incorrectly, by the potion. They were going to be hell to fix. Gathering her strength, she pushed to her feet again and stumbled through the winding, icy maze. Her bones throbbed and her joints didn't work the way they should have. Her left arm hung uselessly by her side.

She trudged on with an almost robotic determination, her mind on only one thing. She would kill that damn jester. She would prove herself. "All right! So Cicero attacked that harlot, Astrid! But what's a fool to do when his mother is slandered and mocked? Surely the Listener understands!"

Tearing her strength from within herself, Framling threw open the heavy doors to the inner chamber, revealing Cicero on the ground before her. His eyes shone with fear and he looked at her as though she were the living dead. "You shouldn't be alive!" He shrieked. "How can you still move?"

The Imperial narrowed her eyes. With a thirst for blood that she had never felt so strongly, she inhaled and let out a roar, white hot flames engulfing the now screaming jester. "I am death itself." She hissed.


	19. Recovery

**AN: I know I missed a week and I cut it real close this week. Sorry **** Writer's block. My imaginary friends wouldn't talk to me. **

**As Always: Read, Review, Follow or Favorite.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim. **

Frӓmling stumbled through the door to the sanctuary, clutching at anything within arm's reach to stead herself to no avail. She lost her footing and crashed to the floor, groaning in pain. She just barely detected the sound of rapid footsteps. Seconds later, Gabrielle was kneeling over the fallen Imperial, hands finding vital signs quickly. "What happened?" she whispered harshly. Though she tried to hide it, her concern was obvious. She tried to lift the warrior into a sitting position only to have the girls eyes roll back from the pain. "Nazir! I need some help!"

The Redguard came around the corner at an unhurried pace until he saw the Listener collapsed on the flagstone. "What happened?" He echoed the same words she'd said only moments ago.

"I don't know. I hear a crash and then I saw her. I don't think she can hear me." He nodded and maneuvered himself to the girl's left side.

"Where are we taking her?" Frӓmling stirred and gasped in pain.

"Cicero's room, now!" Carefully, the Dunmer and Redguard lifted the woman into the air and her howl of pain rang off the stone walls. The pair shuffled through the halls until they reached the stone slab bed, setting the injured party down as gently as they could. "Out!" Gabrielle shouted, shuffling the bearded man from the door, closing it behind him. Not wasting any time, the mage unsheathed her silver dagger and cut the remains of the leather armor from the Listener's mangled bod.

"Oh Frӓmling… how in Sithis' name did you do this to yourself?" Gabrielle ran her fingers gently over Frӓmling's bare back, wincing at the patch-job done on the spinal column and ribs. The smooth Imperial skin was simply masking all the damage that had been done. The spine was completely out of alignment with four slipped disks. It was beyond a miracle that the warrior had made it back to the sanctuary alive. Reaching out with her magic, the assassin traced the ribs, feeling the ridges and bumps where the many fractures and fragments had been hewn together with a cheap potion.

The arm was the worst of all the bone injuries. Through its torn ligaments and muscles, even the potion had not been able to repair it in the slightest. The bone was almost completely shattered. Gabrielle winced, imagining the pain the poor girl must have been enduring. She couldn't begin to comprehend how something like this could have happened to the strongest assassin she knew. She probed as lightly as she could, feeling out the major damage to the muscles, trying to gauge just how much she could do and how long it would take.

"If you can hear me I need you to give me a sign." She whispered into the Imperial's ear. A couple fingers on the warrior's working arm twitched, making the signal for "yes." The mage shuddered as she prepared herself for her next words. "Frӓmling… I'm going to have to re-break the bones as well as make a few incisions along the spine. I'll do what I can to numb the pain, but…"

"It's going to hurt." The gruff and hoarse voice scraped along the Dunmer's eardrum like sandpaper, nothing like what she was used to. She nodded gravely and went to collect her instruments. When she came back she rolled a cloth and gently maneuvered it between the warrior's aching jaws.

"I'm going to start on the back. I'm sorry about this…" Framling groaned as Gabrielle pressed down on her back and twisted, snaps filling the echoing chamber. Her vision swayed from the pain, but she fought to stay conscious, forcing herself to endure for her recklessness.

XxxxxXxxxxXxxxxX

The Mage leaned against the mortar work watching over her sleeping patient. She had almost lost her. After repairing most of the spine she'd found a pinpoint of a puncture in the Listener's lungs. Everything she had done over the past eight hours was completely beyond her skill range, but she'd had to try if only to save a friend.

Her eyes were just about to drift shut when the door flew open and Astrid barged in with a resounding bang. Gabrielle was on her feet in an instant, blocking the blonde's path to the prone warrior. "Out of my way." the woman commanded, but the girl did not budge. Her eyes narrowed at her leader.

"Just what do you think you are going to do? She just barely survived and I will not allow you to undo my work." Astrid's eyes bore daggers into her own, fire blazing at the disobedience.

For a tense moment the two stood facing off before the blonde scoffed and spun on her heel, slamming the door behind her. Framling stirred slightly in her sleep, looking every bit as fragile as she was. Gabrielle crossed the room and brushed the Imperial's brown hair from where it was plastered on her forehead. "Rest now. You'll be just fine."


	20. A Loss is a Loss

**AN: I'm Ba~ck. Did ya miss me? Were you sitting on the edge of your seat with bated breath hoping for a post? No? …. Well fine. Anywho, we continue on! More plot and questing ensues! What will happen next? No one knows! … unless you've finished the dark brotherhood quests… in which case you sorta do know.**

**As Always: Read, Review, Follow or Favorite. It will make me one happy bunny.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim.**

"We have a new assignment." Gabrielle said, pushing off the wall and moving to where Frӓmling was perched on the bed. "It's quite special."

Frӓmling scoffed, stretching gingerly and glancing down at her shoulder. "Amy more special than the other slime we take care of?" Gabrielle winced at the warrior's demeanor, but decided that it was an understandable reaction.

"We have a contract to kill the Gourmet." She stated softly. All movement from the other woman halted. Her eyes were far away for a moment, looking to things the mage couldn't hope to understand. She almost reached out to touch her friend when the Imperial fix her with a stern look that said not to give pity.

"What is so special about this contract?" Finding her way back to her comfort zone, Gabrielle smiled thinly.

"For once, we want to keep this kill under wraps. Speak to Festus when you are ready." With that, the Dunmer took her leave.

For a long while, the dragonborn did not move. It had been multiple weeks since her near fatal brush with Cicero. It was a mistake, one that had cost her dearly. She gazed almost mournfully at where her left arm should have been and felt a slight emptiness at the loss. It had been unsalvageable. The bones were broken beyond repair, the nerve endings torn in multiple places, completely severed. The pain from the amputation was not nearly as bad as the phantom pains she had now, as if it was still there, as if it was still mutilated.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she pushed herself to a standing position, swaying a little from the imbalance. Steeling herself she started off to find Festus.

It took some doing, but she managed to work her way through the many winding hallways of her current home and found the old man hunched over an arcane enchanter. He heard her coming. "There you are. Took your sweet time dealing with Cicero, hmph? Now let's get down to business. Astrid told you about the Gourmet I assume?"

Frӓmling ignored the comment about her long recovery and answered. "That I need to kill him and take on his identity?" She drawled sarcastically, already knowing what was to be asked. She wasn't stupid and she certainly had done her fair share of snooping while Astrid was away on business.

He looked at her appraisingly. "Quite so." He turned his nose up at her. "But first you'll need to learn who he is. Assuming of course that the Gourmet is a "he." Could be a woman for all we know." The Imperial rolled her eyes, knowing that the Mage was prone to long-winded explanations. She was short on patience at the current moment.

"Do you have any idea how I might find out?" She asked pointedly, trying to get him focused on the important information.

"Ah, indeed I do! Indeed I do! In my, um, investigations, I came upon this." He handed over a leather bound book which the warrior took awkwardly in her hand, struggling to open it. Festus paid her no mind, but told her what it was. "It's a copy of the Gourmet's Cookbook." Framling rolled her eyes, having seen it before. She was about to pass the book back when the ol mage continued. "Ah, but not just any copy." She glanced at him skeptically. "It's signed you see! Seems to be a message from the Gourmet to one Anton Virane." A look of surprise crossed the dragonborn's face before she schooled it into disinterest. "I've tracked Virane to the keep in Markarth. It would seem he's the cook."

_A cook writing another cook, _she thought sarcastically_. What a surprise._ "And this Anton Virane knows the Gourmet's true identity?" she asked astutely.

Festus seemed to approve of her conclusion, something akin to appreciation gracing his features. "I believe so. Therefore, you are to obtain that information from Virane – who the Gourmet really is, and where he can be found. Oh and when you're done with Virane, kill him. Loose ends and all that." Immediately, the Imperial's mind began to wander.

She'd have to kill another innocent. Guilty by association. She was beginning to realize that no one was safe in this world. They could be killed for something as inconsequential as knowing another person. Meanwhile Festus was still talking. "Next you'll have to… Are you still paying attention?"

That snapped her back to attention. "Oh, course Festus. Please continue." She made a motion with her hand that almost threw her off balance.

The crotchety mage glared, but continued nonetheless. "Hmph As I was saying… you'll need to kill the Gourmet of course. But what's more, you'll need to get his writ of passage, so you can take his place. Oh, and if you can, hide his body. The longer it takes for anyone else to determine his real identity, the better." He made a dismissive gesture. "Now off with you! Remember, the Markarth keep. That's where you'll find Anton Virane. Probably cooking up all the Gourmet's recipes, passing them off as his own." The last part was muttered as Frӓmling was leaving, grabbing her pack on the way out.

Just as she turned the corner, she bumped into Gabrielle. The Dunmer smiled at her, but it was only somewhat convincing. It was almost as if it was too painful for her to look at the younger woman. It was a physical manifestation on all the suffering she'd caused.


	21. Count Them One Through Four

**AN: Hello everyone! SO I have good news and bad news. The good news is that this is the next chapter and it is three times as long as a normal chapter! The bad news is… that I will not be posting for about three weeks as I am going on vacation. I know you will all miss me soooo much. No? … fine **** Anyway! Hope you enjoy the next installment of **_**Just a Bandit.**_

_**If you care to know what I was picturing while writing this then look up 1 Hour Most Epic Battle Music Collection and listen to it. **_

**As Always: Read, Review, Follow or Favorite. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim.**

_Nothing like a warm bellyful of mead… nothing at all. _I breathed in the sweet scent of fresh baked bread and goat stew that bubbled gently over the fire-pit. Lifting my flask to my lips, I took a long gulp of the fiery liquid. I remembered a time long, long ago in what must have been another world when I had a family to sit with. Stories would float on the wind, tales of bravery and honor, of love and loss. What a luxury those times had been. I could still remember the voice of my father, loud and strong as he sang in the lyrical language of our ancestors, playing on an odd, stringed instrument.

A glow spread through my body and the hair on my arms and neck stood on end as I listened to the silence where, somehow, the last resonating notes of his song could be heard. There was the annual festival held by my small village with drums and dancing into the early hours of the morning. The fire could have been seen for miles on that night, a blaze so bright that even the stars themselves could not outshine.

I scoffed at the fond memories. There was none of that now. There was only vengeance for me, that was my path now. With that thought in mind, I laid back on my bedroll and lifted my eyes skywards to the very same sky I had gazed towards in my early years. It wasn't often that I had time to think or to remember. They were precious moments, ones that no one could be sure to have again. In a land plagued by war and beasts it was never sure that one would live till the morning light.

I tore a small piece of bread from the loaf I had procured from a traveling merchant… free of charge of course. What kind of thief would I be if I had actually paid? It was wheat with a honey glazed shell dotted in sesame seeds. Perhaps it wasn't as good as the bread my mother used to bake, but it was enough and as close as I could possibly get.

I had nearly lost myself in my memories again when a slight clamor reached my ears. I could make out the clang of swords. I was going to ignore it, but then the trumpeting of a mammoth pierced through the silence, making my mind up for me. I vaulted to my feet and drew my bow.

I spared my brewing food one last sullen glance before stalking up the steep hill to get a good view of the battle below. Just as I had expected, a group of careless travelers bearing a strange crested flag had engaged the local tribe of giants. _The fools! _my mind hissed. There were about ten of them and four giants, not to mention the pack of thick-furred beasts closing in. The party had no chance on their own.

An arrow was nocked on my bowstring before I even knew it myself. Taking a deep breath, I set my sights on my target and fired. My aim struck home, propelling the sword from the nearest soldier's hand. He glanced around wildly, just barely dodging a strike from the giant's club, forcing him to disengage. "Drop your weapons and stand down!" I bellowed.

All eyes were suddenly on me. The first giant turned and headed towards me, recognizing me as the most prominent threat, but I bowed my head and reverently placed my ebony enforced longbow at my feet. The beast stared at me, confusion in his eyes. Seeing that the monsters had ceased to attack, the men did as I had told them and cast aside their weapons. For a few tense moments I thought the giants would continue their attack, but sure enough they began to retreat, thunderous step shaking the earth beneath my feet.

Satisfied that the crisis had been averted, I retrieved my weapon and clipped it in its rightful place on my back and took careful steps down the rocky terrain to where the small group of men waited, in complete awe. I slid to a stop before them and extended a hand to the man I had disarmed. He looked at the extended appendage warily for a moment before returning the gesture, clasping my forearm in a strong grip. He was a man of many years with a strong jaw and brown hair dotted with flecks of steel gray. A seasoned warrior by far.

For a while no one said a word, the troops scrounging the ground for their discarded arms. I waited patiently for the commander to speak, but he seemed to be in a state of amazement. I, for one, could not blame him. It would not have come as a surprise to me if that was the first encounter any of them had had with a giant. "Follow me." I said gently, leading them to my camp after they had gathered their belongings.

While I didn't have much in the way of rations, there was enough to feed the hungry men. I could always hunt later, I reasoned. As the rest of the men ate, the captain took a seat next to me. I spared him a short glance before turning back to my stew. "Quite the war party you have, sir." I joked between mouthfuls.

"Yes, well. We have a rather important mission to fulfill, so I suppose thanks are an order." I nodded once to show that I was listening. It sounded as though he was going to make some sort of offer, but was unsure as to how to broach the subject. "I would venture to guess…" He began, looking at me with a questioning expression. "That you have a quest of your own to fulfill. A strong woman such as yourself couldn't possibly be traveling this expanse without purpose."

I raise a brow at him with a warning glare. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Do not mistake me for a fool general; it will be your last mistake."

He nodded his dedition and steered to safer ground. "I have a proposition for you." I was in no way interested in anything the man had to say, but keeping with common courtesy, I motioned for him to continue. "My men and I are on our way to the sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood. It would be advantageous for me if you were to accompany us." That piqued my interest.

"And how, may I ask, did you come about the location of such a sought after group?" If he knew where their hideout was, I had a way to find Frӓmling, a way to exact my revenge.

He rested a calloused hand on my shoulder which I quickly shrugged off. "That, my dear, is a secret."

I sent him a scathing glare. "There are no secrets here. You will tell me or I will simply slaughter you and your men here." I stood, looking down at him before turning to pour more food into my bowl. "Did you not heed my advice when I told you not to mistake me for a fool? Despite my looks, sir, I am far more deadly than any of your men could ever be."

He chuckled loudly coming to stand by me. "Dear girl, were you not struck with fear moments ago in the face of those monstrosities?" I slapped his hand away as he reached for the ladle.

"Fear? No." I reveled in his disbelieving look. "I simply did not wish any harm to come to the natives here. You misunderstand many things so I believe I could assume you are not from here. If I were to place a guess I would say you and your men are from the imperial city, am I right?" He looked to be formulating a reply, but I continued. "Those 'monstrosities' as you called them are one of the oldest inhabitants of Skyrim. To many they are a pest, a nuisance, but to those who are educated in the lore they are respected and feared. You would do well to remember that you are foreign here. As for the fear, I would have killed them all where they stood had it been my will."

The fear in his eyes told me that he knew my words to be true. "As for your proposition…" I returned to my bedroll. "I accept on one condition." He nodded quickly. "The one called Frӓmling… Is mine."

XxxxxXxxxxXxxxxX

Frӓmling slammed herself against the rough tree bark panting and mind reeling. Only one clear thought rang out in the chaos. _Betrayal! _She tried to still her breathing when she heard the guards approaching.

"Where did she go?" Said one.

"I don't know! Keep looking and don't let your guard down!" the other called back.

She took a deep breath and propelled herself into the branches, crouching in the cover of leaves. Not a moment later the first of the two lackeys snuck past, sword in hand and eyes vigilant. The imperial searched through the folds of her chef outfit for her ebony dagger. She hadn't been able to bring much in the way of weapons, but she wasn't supposed to have needed them. It was an in and out mission. Poison the food and escape before anyone noticed.

She had been so close…

_Frӓmling fled from the room in a blind panic. She had no way to defend herself and the guards were swarming like bees to a hive. Stone corridors flew by in a blur of motion and she was out. She called to mind the directions that had been detailed in the assignment and followed them perfectly, arriving on a thin stone terrace that lead to the woods. She was half way across when a torch came into view in a small window above the bridge. A soft sound reached her ears. Clapping. _

"_That man was, by far, the most insufferable decoy the Emperor has ever employed. I'm glad he's dead. Ah, but I'm even happier that you killed him." A loud voice called out in an almost bored tone. The warrior could feel her heart thundering in her chest. _

"_You, an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood, have just made an attempt on the emperor's life. Would have succeeded, had it been the real man." Her mind spun, trying to understand what was going on. She couldn't think through all the adrenaline coursing through her blood. Some part of her said to run, but she was frozen in place by the one thing she never allowed herself to feel: Fear._

_The man speaking moved closer, close enough that she could see his face. It was the Penitus Oculatus Agent, Maro. "Surprised? So was I, when a member of your "Family" came to me with the plan. We worked out a deal, you see. An exchange." She blinked, confused. Had he just said that she had been betrayed? "I get you, and the Dark Brotherhood gets to continue its existence"_

_Two agents move to flank her, blocking her escape. "But you know what? I've changed my mind. How about this? I kill you, and butcher each and every one of your miserable little friends! Your sanctuary is being put to the sword right now. That's what I think of this "deal." You killed my son! All of you! And now you'll pay the price." The dragonborn's breath caught in her throat and she felt the panic welling up in her again. The sanctuary! Gabrielle! _

"_Kill her and make sure there's nothing left to burry." The order was so offhand, as if it was something he did every day. A new feeling igniting in the pit of her stomach, one that she was well accustomed to. Rage. _

_She took a deep breath and shouted. "Fus Ro Dah!" the strength of a dragon molded with her breath in a fury of blue energy. The wave hit the soldiers, propelling the two nearest backward and over the edge into the ravine below. The others were thrown off their feet and onto their backs. The Listener was on Maro in an instant, her fingers gripping his throat with such force that his windpipe was crushed. His eyes widened in agony and then a deathly fear when he realized he couldn't breathe. _

_The warrior leapt up and fled, knowing that she was no match for the remaining men in her current condition. _

The agent below her stopped and looked about, narrowing his eyes trying to see in the inky darkness. He wished then that he had left the torch behind. It made him an easy target for someone who was used to hiding in the night. Just as this thought crossed his mind, a sharp object punctured his back. He looked down and, to his horror, saw a black blade protruding from his chest armor. Seconds later, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell lifeless to the ground.

_One left… _Frӓmling thought to herself, wiping her blade on the white fabric of her garb. A sound to her left was her only warning. An arrow whizzed past her head, narrowly missing. She rolled to her left taking cover once again behind the tree. A few dull thuds told her that the last few shots had buried themselves in the tree. She waited and listened. There was a slight rustle and then silence.

Carefully, she ventured to put her hand out from the hiding place. Nothing happened until she moved it slightly, giving the archer a clear target. Four more shots fired, giving her a clear indicator as to how many arrows he could fire before having to ready the next volley.

Readying herself, she vaulted from her hiding place. The hiss of an arrow slipped between her arm and body, missing. _One. _The next glanced off a branch next to her as she continued her flight towards her attacker. _Two. _Dirt flew up in front of her from the ground where the next arrow buried itself. _Three. _He was learning her movements, anticipating them. The final arrow, to the man's credit, should have hit her. In his last ditch effort he had shot hastily. The aim was good with just one problem. He aimed at a part of her that simply did not exist. It hissed past, through the air where her left arm would have been. By then it was too late, she had reached him. "Too slow…" She whispered in his ear. Her knife buried itself in his chest, ending his life.


End file.
